Searching For the All Spark
by Subtlyarranged
Summary: They were searching for an ancient relic. They never meant to drag another species into their war, but they also never meant to make connections with them that they would have never thought possible. The 2007 movie if it had focused on the Autobots.
1. Searching

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

What this fic is: I hate that the movies have so much human detail in them, whereas I feel that they should center around the Transformers, or at least the Autobots. So this is what I imagine the 2007 movie would be if it focused on the Autobots. It's basically me dealing with my annoyances.

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><p>Searching<p>

They waited. They waited at the edge of the solar system, so far away from the sun that they didn't feel the heat, but close enough to see the light.

Hope burned in their Sparks; they had been surrounded by darkness for far too long. Before they left Cybertron, the suns that lit the planet and warmed its atmosphere had dimmed. They were still trying to figure out if it was a subcounsious representation of constant, dull grief or if they were simply dying. Like Cybertron itself.

But light represented life. They had seen too much destruction and death in their lives.

Certainly they would find some sort of race in this solar system. They hoped they just wouldn't find them burned, mutilated, or showing other signs of a painful death. A death caused by Decepticons.

Touching down on a rock that would have been considered a large boulder on their home planet, they transformed into their bi-pedal modes, while their scout streaked off to explore the rest of planets.

The four Cybertronians prepared for disappointment, and for their young comrade to come back without anything worth investigating further. That had been the case with hundreds of other searches.

The tallest of the small group bent down and picked up some of the pebbles that laid on the surface. Finding nothing different or special, he let them fall through his digits as the weak gravity pulled them back down to the surface.

"Nothing on this planet to ruin," another large figure said gruffly in their clicking language. It was nothing but a mass of large rock. And since rocks couldn't scream, the Decepticons that had been in the vicinity had ignored it.

It put the leader of the band of Autobots on edge. If Decepticons had been here, there was something nearby that had to be important.

"Life is a precious thing, Ironhide," he responded. "It doesn't exist everywhere."

"All the more reason to protect it," the smallest figure of the group, even smaller than the scout that was off exploring.

"And you lug heads try to commit suicide every time there's a confrontation with Decepticons," the last grumbled.

The leader smiled. "And you would be out of work, Ratchet."

"I would prefer to be," he grumbled again. No war to be fought, no repairs to be made. And if a war wasn't being fought, it meant that there was peace among their kind again.

_Until all are one,_ the thought echoed in the back of the medic's processor.

The smallest's head snapped toward the small star. Three sets of optics focused on the movement. Nothing escaped them. If it did, it would likely be a fatal mistake.

"What is it, Jazz?" The mech in question had sensitive receptors, as all Autobot saboteurs did. He would be the first to notice if something was amiss. He was something of an early warning system, and just as fail proof as the security back on Cybertron.

"Do you feel that, Optimus?" He asked. "Its like... a breeze." Jazz's optic ridges furrowed as he looked for the right term.

"There's not enough heat from the star to create climate changes," Ratchet said. The medic took everything literally. Ironhide, a frequent user of sarcasm, had been frustrated by the medic more than a few times. Even when he was laying it on thick.

"No, its like... something that wants to get into your processor, but not really."

"Did you absorb bad Energon?" Ironhide asked. It was a fair assumption. Jazz was usually eloquent, but what he was saying now didn't make any sense.

"Open up your receptors," he instructed. He did this as well, and his processor was immediately filled with information, so much that it caused internal searing pain. Dropping to his knees, he shut down his receptors, and the pain faded to a dull throb.

"Decepticon processor scrambler," Ironhide snarled, his large, predominant cannons charging. Two broad swords ejected from either of Optimus's wrists, Ratchet's medical equipment began to whir to be used to damage, not repair. While they were preparing for battle, Jazz processed the information.

"Organics," he said, rising back to his full height. He had seen millions of pictures and videos of self-proclaimed "humans" with physical composition similar to their bi-pedal forms and a soft outer casing that ranged in color from pale, almost translucent while to golden brown to deep, charcoal black. Their facial features were more variant even than that, with no two being exactly the same.

"Organics aren't capable of attacking processors of Cybertronians," Ratchet said. They had seen organic lifeforms before, races insufficient of higher thought and unaccustomed to dangers other than predatory organics that also inhabited the planet.

"Is it a preventative measure?" Optimus asked. Maybe the Decepticons had attacked before, but the organics held their own and defended their home.

His optic's flared when he realized the potential for allies.

"No," Jazz answered. "Its an Internet." It was an Internet, but primitive compared to the network on Cybertron. It served it's purpose well though; it provided instant information to whoever needed it.

"Organics cannot create an Internet; its far too advanced for them," Ratchet argued.

"It's an internet," he insisted. "My processor couldn't handle the information flow, but if I limit it, it should be fine." He did so, and the slower rate prevented his processor from aching.

"Fantastic," he vented lightly. Optimus, seeing that Jazz had not suffered the pain from before, did the same thing.

Absorbing the whole Internet took only a few nanoklicks, but the flow was halted by a surprising discovery.

On the eBay website, on the page belonging to LadiesMan217, there was a thumbnail picture of a pair of glasses. It was just big enough for Optimus to make out the message embedded into the cracked lenses, in the Language of the Primes.

What was something native to their home planet doing in such a foreign place?

"We need to get closer to Earth," he decided. Something was there, something ancient. Or maybe just as current Lord Megatron, leader of the Decepticons.

"You got it, Prime," Ironhide said, pushing off of the rock and slightly altering the orbit of the small planet. Jazz followed next, flipping out of the thin atmosphere and then transforming into his inter-stellar pod mod. Ratchet and Optimus Prime left simultaneously, following an excited Jazz and less-than-enthusiastic Ironhide.

"Find and protect Samuel James Witwicky," Optimus ordered through his personal comm. link. He hacked into the eBay website, finding the personal information of LadiesMan217. He wondered at the judgement of these organics, why would you allow such private information to be accessed by everyone?

Discovering social networking sites, Optimus Prime decided that these "humans" were either stupid or lacked appropriate decision processings.

"Yes, sir," the scout replied, adjusting his course accordingly. He had also discovered the Internet on the entrance to the planet.

"But not at the expense of yourself, Bumblebee," Samuel had the key to finding the AllSpark. Decepticons would be after him, and if Bumblebee was guarding the human, Decepticons wouldn't hesitate to kill the scout.

However, Optimus was more apprehensive of human nature. They could be quite capable of harming the scout, and have no moral or ethical problems with hurting Bumblebee.

"Stay undercover unless absolutely necessary. We're coming to Earth."

"I will project a beacon when you get closer."

"Good. Be cautious, Bumblebee."

"Yes, sir." His hollow responses echoed in Optimus's processor. He had noticed that Bumblebee hadn't promised that he wouldn't put himself in harm's way if it meant that the boy would be protected.

Because when Bumblebee was ordered to do something, he did it full out, with no hesitation or care for himself.

And Optimus absolutely hated that about the young scout.

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><p>You made it this far, you might was well review!<p> 


	2. Reflections of the Dead

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

This is probably the last update for this fic for the next week. I'm on vacation, and to get the dialouge to match up I need the movies, which I don't have.

Read and review!

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><p>Reflections of the Dead<p>

Bumblebee landed just outside the city limits of Tranquility, Nevada. A trail of overturned dirt lead to a pod that started twisting and turning until it changed to the scout's protoform. It was necessary to strip of any armor, as his body needed to reformat itself to fit the shape a Earth vehicle.

Cautiously peeking over a small grass knoll, as to not to scare the locals, Bumblebee watched the roadway, looking for any sign of a small car that would be appropriate for his small body. Unfortunately for Bumblebee, it was the middle of the night. The only thing that lit up the darkness was a flickering streetlamp. This was slight though, because his optics could see much farther in complete blackness than a human could see on a bright sunny day.

Five minutes later, a dirty, beaten Camaro came roaring down the street. Bumblebee noted that the driver was going much too fast for safety on such a windy road, but ignored this. It wasn't his job to police the humans.

His optics flared as he downloaded every detail to the car, including the air freshener that had "Bee-Otch" written on it.

Thirty seconds later, an identical Camaro was heading in the opposite direction. The driver less vehicle went undisturbed as it winded through the lit streets of suburbia. He would recharge near the Witwicky residence, close enough to protect the human but far enough that the boy wouldn't notice him the next morning.

Luckily, the boy was of driving age, and a quick hack of Nevada's Department of Licensing showed that he was legal to operate a car. Bumblebee let relief flood over him; it was one less thing he had to worry about. He would pose as Samuel's car.

Now, how would he go about that?

His audio receptors picked up the conversation in the living room of the Witwicky household.

"I have two thousand dollars," Samuel announced proudly. He was close, so close, to getting his own car. He was _this_ close to freedom.

"Do you have three A's?" His father countered. He hadn't expected his son to live up to his side of the bargain so quickly. The boy was smart, getting the A's would take only a little effort from him. If Sam applied himself, he could be a four-point-o student. He didn't have a job though, and so he could only wonder where the money came from.

_Drugs_, he thought darkly. Then he had to smother a laugh with a cough. The boy didn't have the street smarts or toughness required of a drug dealer. He probably got the two thousand from his aunt. That woman spoiled him rotten.

"I have two, you saw both of 'em, right?" Sam asked. His father nodded. Two solid A's. He was proud of his boy. Now if he would just try to be a straight-A student.

"If I ace my family genealogy report tomorrow, I get a new car."

"The key word being 'if'," Ron said. One of his favorite past times was crushing his son's spirits. He already had a perfect plan for when he would take Sam to buy his car. Driving him by the Porshe dealership and the breaking the news would be more than satisfying.

He thought of it as payback for all the diaper changes.

"What time do you get done with your history class?"

"Last period."

Ron nodded. "I'll pick you up from school. If you get an A, I'll take you to buy your car. If not, you're walking home."

"Okay," Sam agreed. He was getting that A. Even if he had to beg and plead, he would get that A.

"Now get to bed," Ron ordered. The boy went up the staircase two steps at a time, practically vibrating with excitement.

Bumblebee vented, resting back on his tires. He understood what was so significant about getting a new car. There was responsibility and trust placed in him now. Bumblebee loved that feeling; he was the first to take advantage of an opportunity to prove himself. Ironhide insisted that he had absolutely nothing to prove. He was on Optimus's team, despite his youth, because he was a phenomenal scout.

Sometimes even he believed that getting that position was a complete flop. A mistake. But he quickly shook that off. Optimus Prime didn't make mistakes.

Bumblebee, to occupy his idling processor, made up a battle plan. He would plant himself to be available to purchase, and hopefully appeal to the boy. He would then, without revealing himself, verify that Samuel had the glasses. If he didn't, Bumblebee would disappear into the night, and he and the other Autobots would search for the glasses or the AllSpark. If he did, well, fate had dragged the unfortunate human into an ancient war.

Bumblebee had forgotten what they were fighting for. He wasn't even sparked before the war. He once asked Ironhide. The old mech vented heavily and then, after thinking for nearly three breems, he said "our lives." Bumblebee then asked Optimus, telling the Prime what Ironhide had said. "I agree," Optimus had said. "We are fighting for our lives, and the lives of others." Without knowing it, Bumblebee had been fighting for the humans. He had been fighting for every extinct race he had come across, the smell of the spilled internal liquids nearly making him purge his tanks.

Bumblebee vented again, resting even more of his weight on his wheels. _Enjoy your peace tonight_, Samuel, he thought sadly. _It can only last so long._

The glasses that would forever alter the boy's life were sitting on the desk next to the window, across from the sleeping, peaceful Sam.

Of course, the peace would be interrupted.

_Our war, their world._ Bumblebee tried to count how many races that had died because of them.

He dreaded it for the humans even more. They had been too late for the other world, they were already gone.

This one could still continue to function. They weren't too late for Earth, but it would be a different kind of failure if they didn't save this water-ridden planet.

Previously, they failed because they weren't quick enough. It was over before they were even close. But now, if they failed, they would watch billions of lives fade away. Because they weren't strong enough, because they didn't fight hard enough.

Bumblebee didn't think he could ever forgive himself if this world was consumed in death.

_Then we have to fight, and if we die, we die. We would already be dead if we let destruction tear apart this planet,_ Bumblebee thought grimly. _There is no other option._


	3. Extreme Discomfort

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

There isn't all the dialouge from the scene because it wasn't really significant, just the important part.

I also realized something incredibly important while writing this chapter. I want to call one of my uncles "Uncle Bobby B."

Anyway... read and review!

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><p>Extreme Discomfort<p>

Bumblebee managed to pick up the conversation of Samuel and his father among the noise of heavy traffic. It would be easier to plant himself for purchase if he knew that the father's intent was.

"I got a little surprise for you, son," Ron said, driving along the roadway that had car dealerships on either side.

"What kinda surprise?" Sam asked as his father pulled into the Porshe dealership."No. No, no, no, _no_! Dad! Oh, you gotta be kidding me!" While Sam chanted 'no' excitedly, believing he was getting a Porshe, Bumblebee chanted it in desperation. His current alternate mode would not have a place among the clean and more contemporary cars at the dealership. He could quickly scan another, but doing so would require transforming, which would violate the rule of inconspicuousy.

"Yeah. I am." Ron said, smiling. Sam frowned, the cruelty of his father's actions echoing through his mind. "You're not getting a Porshe." While Sam was disappointed, Bumblebee had to keep from acting relieved. Humans were not accustomed to cars having reactions, much less of relief.

"You think that's funny?" Sam snapped, which made his father laugh so hard that he snorted. Bumblebee didn't understand what had Samuel so irritated and his father almost suffering from a heart attack from the apparent hilarity of the situation.

"Yeah, I think its funny." Ron answered, his laugh bordering on the edge of a wheeze.

"What's wrong with you?" Samuel demanded, almost angrily. The anger wasn't directed at his father, even though it had been a cruel joke. He should have seen that coming.

"You thought I would actually get you a _Porshe_?" Ron laughed again. His kid was too funny. He could be a stand-up comedian. He pulled in by the curb of a car lot that had more than a few heath and safety code violations. It couldn't be legal to have an ostrich on business property.

"For your first car?" Bumblebee, still trying to understand what the joke was, drove by the car the two Witwicky's were currently exiting and made a U-turn back into the lot that Samuel and his father were now standing on.

"I don't want to talk to you for the rest of my life," Bumblebee became almost disgusted with the boy. He was being ungrateful to his father, who was certainly helping his son achieve his own freedom. Bumblebee noted that humans had a serious, most likely hindering, lack of maturity. The scout chastised himself. He had never really gotten a chance to be a youngling; the war had been his focus his entire life.

The human boy was lucky that he had immaturity to spare. _He's wasting it_. Bumblebee tried to ignore the dark thought. It was replaced by an even darker thought._ It won't last long..._

"C'mon, its just a practical joke." _What_ was this joke? Bumblebee never missed something that seemed to be so obvious. He was a scout, it was his job to pick up the little details of a changed Decepticon formation, notice the hints that gave away a bluff, or hear the information given away that no one else had bothered to listen to.

_Cultural differences_, he told himself. _Cultural differences_.

"That isn't a practical joke." Sam argued, only to cause Ron to laugh again. Now it _wasn't_ a joke? Why were these organics so confusing? They managed to make Bumblebee's processor hurt just by _talking_.

And they continued to talk, Bumblebee continued to ignore them, deciding that he would have better judgement if he wasn't resisting the urge to pull out his audio receptors. His optical sensors watched as the salesman gave his whole spiel, telling Samuel to call him "Uncle Bobby B" despite the fact that they had enough difference in genetic coding to be considered unrelated. Samuel had told "Uncle Bobby B" to call him Sam, not introducing himself with his full name.

_What_ was with these humans? They pretended to be family members, and gave out false aliases. Where they hiding something? Or was it just lack of pride?

Optimus always introduced himself as Optimus Prime, though there wasn't a Cybertronian out there that didn't know who he was. Modest as always, he never put any emphasis on the title. Bumblebee saw this could be a flaw in coming to Earth. "Prime" had no significance; they would just assume that "Optimus Prime" was his full given name.

Bumblebee could introduce himself as Bumblebee Prime and the humans would never know. Guilt ran through him for even considering that, though it wasn't his intent to replace Optimus.

No. No one could replace Optimus. Cybertron had never seen such a great leader as Optimus Prime.

"But over here, every piece of car man might want or need," Bumblebee stopped mid-reverie, focusing on the fast approach of the human group.

"This ain't bad," Samuel commented, and pride swelled in Bumblebee's Spark. He picked an alternate that not only pleased the human, but seemed to help his plan. The pride disappeared when it changed to discomfort as Sam ran his hands over Bumblebee's hood. He had to keep from transforming when the salesman grabbed his aft.

He resisted the urge to squirm away, until he realized that this was a mission. Bumblebee came to the sickening realization that the humans could touch him all they wanted.

"It's got racing stripes."

"Yeah, it's got racing stripes... hey, what's- what the heck is this?" _Mission. You're on a mission_, Bumblebee chanted, trying to calm himself. Samuel gripped the door where the window was open, and it took everything the scout had to not open it and slam it against the human. The overwhelming discomfort changed to panic as the salesman realized that he wasn't part of his merchandise. "I dunno nothing about this car. Manny!"

"What?"

"What is this?" Sam opened Bumblebee's door slowly, peering in.

"This car! Check it out." _Oh, Primus. Oh, Primus, he's sitting down. Primus please let this be a nightmare._ Bumblebee tried to focus on the argument between the salesman and his employee and simultaneously pray to Primus as Sam sat in the driver's seat, gently gripping the wheel.

"I dunno, boss. I never seen that car. That's loco."

"Don't go riggi ricono on me, Manny. Find out."

"Feels good," Sam commented, as Bumblebee thought _not to me_. Sam wiped away the dirt on Bumblebee's Autobot insignia. The human was touching thousands of years old Cybertronian dust.

Bumblebee missed Cybertron. Though it had been burned and torn apart, it was his home. Information clips containing pictures and videos of an older, more perfect Cybertron were almost as alien as this planet.

"How much?" Sam's father asked, seeing that his son was content with the Camaro.

The alien Camaro that he was practically feeling up.

The salesman breathed heavily, and Bumblebee tried to relax; his plan had worked out better that expected, except for the unforeseen discomfort.

"Well, considering the semi-classic nature of the vehicle, with the slick wheels and a custom paint job-"

"Yeah, but the paints faded," Sam interrupted. Bumblebee wondered why that was so significant about the paint, or the fact that it was faded.

He would have to ask Sideswipe or Sunstreaker, they were always repainting and re-glossing themselves after a battle.

"Yeah, but its custom." _I don't know what you're talking about, _Bumblebee thought in confusion._ I scanned the first vehicle of appropriate size and mass that I saw._

"It's custom faded?" Yep. He would definitely have to ask Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

"Well, its your first car, I wouldn't expect you to understand." Bobby Bolivia stood back up. "Five grand."

"No, I'm not paying over four. Sorry." It took a moment for Bumblebee to process Ron's rejection. No, he had to get Sam to purchase him.

"Kid, c'mon. Get outta the car."

"Nonono, you said cars pick their drivers," Sam argued.

"Well sometimes they pick drivers with a cheap-ass father. Out the car." _And apparently I picked a driver that can't keep his hands to himself_, Bumblebee commented.

Bobby Bolivia stepped back and gestured to an old yellow Volkswagen Bug. "Now this one for four G's here is a butte."

Sam was still staring at dash, trying to figure out what was so special about the car. As much as Bumblebee was relieved that he wasn't being violated anymore, he still had a mission to accomplish.

"There's a fiesta with racing stripes over there."

"No, I don't want a fiesta with racing stripes," Sam declared, and Bumblebee almost vented in relief. The human was still putting up a fight. The scout noticed the saleman getting into the Bug beside him, and decided that scaring him would now be the best option.

"This is a classic engine right here. I sold a car the other day-" Bumblebee opened his door and it slammed into the Bug with enough force to shove it four feet away.

"Sheesh, holy cow. Are you alright?" Bobby Bolivia scrambled out of the car, getting _away_ from the freaky-ass Camaro.

"I'll just have this knocked right out. Manny! Get your clown cousin and some hammers and bang this sucker out baby." The salesman laughed, and Bumblebee figured the only option was to destroy the poor man's livelihood.

"Remember little man," came from Bumblebee's radio until it reached a pitch that scrambled the atoms in the windshields just enough to have them break and blast everywhere. His Cybertronian alloy was much too strong to be broken by the pitch.

Bumblebee figured that if that didn't do the trick, and if the salesman didn't want him the hell off his lot, then he would just have to drive away and meet Sam and his father at their home and explain the severity of the situation.

The salesman, as expected, stood and said in disbelief "four thousand."

_Mission acoomplished_, he stated proudly, and then saw Sam approaching him with a grin plastered on his face. _Primus, no. He can't. He _can't_._ But he did.

Sam sat down in the drivers seat, starting the engine.


	4. Dragging You In

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

A/N: I skipped the whole lake scene because it would be way too similar to the last chapter. There are a couple references, but it starts when Bee is pulling out of the driveway at night.

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><p>Dragging You In<p>

It was night, and Bumblebee started his engine. If he didn't leave now, his position would be off, and his team wouldn't be able to see the beacon. Sam had the glasses and there was no other option than to have him involved.

Panicked footsteps reached his audio receptors and he heard accusations of himself being stolen. As if that would ever happen. If _one_ more touchy-feelie human so much as raised a hand to stroke his dash...

He started down the road, but Sam emerged from his driveway, trailing him. He was talking loudly into the speaker of the phone, not trying to be discreet at all.

Bumblebee ignored the human, heading toward a discreet and unpopulated the place that he had scouted out while being the chosen mode of transportation of Sam and his friend Miles, and eventually a girl named Mikaela.

Miles was worse,_ so _much worse, than Sam had been. Constantly fidgeting, not to mention repeatedly stroking his interior. So when his charge expressed his desire to pursue Mikaela, Bumblebee egged him on through the radio. Needless to say, he was satisfied with the end result being Miles abandoned on the curb.

Bumblebee's attention switched to what was going on in front of him as he crossed the train tracks before the train could cut off the only access to the junkyard. Now nothing could follow him, at least without some difficulty. He didn't know how many times he had escaped the Decepticons using the same tactic. More often than not, he was leading them into a trap, where Autobot warriors made scrap metal out of the slaggers.

Being a scout consisted of being clever and lucky... one hundred percent of the time.

Bumblebee bounced as he hit a few pot holes and carefully avoided the stacks of cars. Finally being in the exact center of the junk yard, he transformed.

This action required no work from his processor; his body knew what to do. Armor plating that had been locked together separated, creating a folding effect and parts shifted to where they needed to be.

He stood and vented. Being in an alternate was constricting, but necessary.

From the headlights of his terrestrial disguise came a foreign light beam. It penetrated the clouds, the atmosphere and the nothingness that lay beyond that. A beacon with the Autobot insignia sent a message to anyone who had seen it. To Decepticons, it was a chilling reminder that the Autobots were still fighting, still surviving. To allies, it was hope.

"Good work, Bumblebee," Optimus initiated a personal comm. link. A sadness tugged at his words, making them seem dark.

Why did this planet have to have a reason to be dragged into the war?

"Thank you, sir." Optimus tried not to wince when Bumblebee called him "sir." They were currently on Mars, examining a destroyed vehicle. Ratchet stated that the robot was not sentient but had most likely been controlled by the humans on Earth.

"You may call me Optimus," he gently reminded his scout. "Jazz has detected Decepticon activity. Be careful, Bumblebee."

"Yes... Optimus," Bumblebee tried it out, but he didn't like the way it sounded. Ratchet, Ironhide and Jazz knew Optimus Prime personnally. They had been friends before the war. They had the right to call him Optimus or Prime. Bumblebee, however, had grown up with Optimus Prime being a fantastic, living legand. He was something magnificent and far out of reach, like the distant stars that decorated the Cybertronian night sky.

Bumblebee always treated his comrades and superiors with respect, unless they breached a certain level of annoyance. When this happened, the scout was quick to chastise anyone, or at least show the violator that their actions weren't appreciated.

"I have to go, sir."

Distant barking and high-pitched screams reached his audio receptors. Without another word, he shut the comm. link, transformed and went to chase the organic animals away from Sam.

He found his charge gracelessly dancing on top of a barrel, and circled around, causing the dogs to retreat. He didn't need to have the boy contract rabies and then die.

He shut down his engine and watched as the police took Sam into custody, despite his insistence that the criminal was sitting in his driver-less seat.

Sam would be safe with the human police. Bumblebee would just have to wait.

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><p>Bumblebee arrived once Samuel's parents had left, with now no cause for the Decepticons to hesitate in their mission to find the only key to the AllSpark.<p>

Unfortunately, the human panicked and grabbed his mother's bike, trying the same unsuccessful tactic that he had used the last night.

If Bumblebee had been in his alternate mode, he would have rolled his optics or face palmed, but since he couldn't do either, he began to trail the boy. The Decepticons would likely be in a populated area to cause maximum damage and casualties if there was a confrontation.

The city wasn't far from Sam's sheltered suburbia neighborhood, and it only took a few minutes for him to try to ride past the Burger King.

"Try" being the operative word because Sam was flung over the handlebars of the pink bike.

Bumblebee left his charge to his own public humiliation, he would make a few right turns and be there to follow him again. He dutifully followed as Sam rode under a concrete structure that was littered with abandoned junk.

Until he caught a Decepticon insignia. He drove past Sam as if a human were controlling him, not bringing any attention to himself. He turned and drove away from the scene. It wasn't time to intervene yet.

Even when Sam stupidly confronted Barricade, laying across the Decepticon's hood in a way Bumblebee knew he wouldn't appreciate, he didn't intervene.

_Not yet, not yet_, he chanted as Barricade surged forward, almost running over Sam repeatedly. '

Then, he transformed. Sam sprinted away but was still knocked into the windshield of an old car. Bumblebee would have winced if he could have. That was a gentle tap compared to what Barricade could do.

Bumblebee fidgeted in his alternate mode. It still wasn't time to intervene. He knew that Barricade wouldn't kill Sam if he had a use for him. That use currently being knowing where the glasses were.

Fortunately Sam was able to get away, running from the Decepticon at top speed and pushing Mikaela off her scooter.

Now it was time to intervene. Barricade would have no problem killing the girl, and Bumblebee couldn't let that happen.

He shot forward and then made a sharp turn, taking out the Decepticon's legs. He then turned back towards the two humans and opened his passenger door.

Bumblebee waited in agitation as Sam convinced Mikaela to get in. He didn't want a fight right here; there were too many witnesses and too many potential deaths.

Sam practically leaped in, rolling across the seats and dragging Mikaela in alongside him. _Are the hero moves really necessary?_ Bumblebee wondered and then sped away to less populated area.

Barricade would pursue, and they would fight. Bumblebee just didn't want to do it right here or right now.

He headed for the more industrial part of town, fake police sirens following him. Bumblebee swerved in front of Barricade, preventing him from blocking their path. Eventually he arrived to a place that was void of any humans and threw Sam and Mikaela out of his cab.

He transformed, standing and keeping a defensive position in front of them. Barricade accelerated towards him and transformed using his momentum to knock the scout over, and then ejected Frenzy to take care of the fleshlings.

He attacked Bumblebee with his shredder weapon, but that did little to harm the scout. Instead, he threw Bumblebee against power lines, but the scout quickly recovered with a roll, grabbed Barricade's arm and smashed him against an unoccupied security guard station.

The two then rolled down a hill, grappling with each other but Bumblebee eventually gained the upper hand and made quick work of Barricade using his solar cannon. The Decepticon tried to defend himself against Bumblebee's unrelenting rain of firepower, but his armor could only sustain so much.

The tattered remains of Barricade were left leaning against a wall, still twitching and sparking.

He approached Sam and Mikaela slowly, his cannon transforming back into his hand. They were both dirty, and the adrenaline from fighting Frenzy could be detected in their bodies. Their heart rates were higher than normal, but none the less worse for wear.

Bumblebee continued walking towards the two humans slowly, not wanting to cause alarm.

"What is it?" Mikaela asked.

"It's a robot, but like a super advanced robot. It's probably Japanese. Yeah, its definitely Japanese."

_Cybertronian_, Bumblebee corrected._ I'm Cybertronian_.

"What are you doing?" Mikaela demanded as Sam approached Bumblebee slowly. The Autobot assumed a nonthreatening posture. The humans would have to make the advances from now on. Bumblebee could tell that his presence was making Mikaela stressful and he didn't want the two to fear him if he made the wrong move.

Reassurances and coaxing costs time, one thing that the Autobots were constantly short of.

"I don't think it wants to hurt us, it would've done that already," Bumblebee nodded solemnly at Sam's observation. He was here to protect them, not destroy. Autobot precepts stressed that more than anything.

There had been too much destruction in his life already. He didn't need to cause any more.

"Really? Do you speak robot because they just had, like a giant droid _death match_," Mikaela whispered intensely, and Bumblebee noted her caution. Sam was willing to approach him, but the girl was smart. She had no way of knowing what his purpose was. As far as survival goes, she was doing all the right things.

"He wants something from me," it was a statement, not a question. Bumblebee was surprised by Sam's insight. The boy was smarter than he looked.

"_What_?" Mikaela asked, and Bumblebee saw that her wariness was receding.

"Because the other one was talking about my eBay page."

"You are the strangest boy I have ever met."

"Can you talk?" Sam asked, addressing Bumblebee for the first time.

"SM satellite radio, digital cable brings you, broadcasting systems," he answered, using sound clips from various Earth advertisements. He was finally had the ability to communicate, after all these cycles. A comm. link wasn't the same thing, it was a message sent to another 'bot. Being able to produce sound waves to talk with another being was an entirely different thing.

It was a freedom he hadn't realized he had until it was viciously and painfully torn out of his throat by Megatron.

"So you talk through the radio," Sam clarified.

"Thanks to you, too. You're wonderful, you're wonderful," Bumblebee congratulated, while clapping. Using human body language would help convey his meaning.

"So what was that last night, what was that?"

"Message from starfleet, unanimous vastness of space, rain down like visitors from Heaven, hallelujah," there wasn't an exact way to explain why he had to send out the beacon, but they were close to being here. All he could do was point and look up to the stars They would have to wait until Optimus could explain everything.

"Visitors from heaven, what are you, like an alien or something?" Bumblebee pointed at her and then transformed.

"Any more questions you wanna ask?" He countered and then opened his passenger door.

"He wants us to get in the car."

"And go where?" Mikaela asked in disbelief.

"Fifty years from now when you're looking back at your life, don't you want to see that you had the guts to get in the car?" Bumblebee vented as Sam convinced Mikaela to go with them.

_You don't want to drag her into this war, kid_. When she paused, Bumblebee had thought she would decline, but was instead the first to climb up the gravel hill and sit down.

Bumblebee wanted his vocal processors now more than ever, if just to warn them of what was ahead.


	5. The Culture Gap

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack! Anyway, this chapter, for some reason, was really fun to write, especially the parts with Ironhide.

And there is a _Twilight_ reference... I couldn't resist...

Anyways, read and review!

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><p>The Culture Gap<p>

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><p>Bumblebee was content to listen to the two humans murmur as he drove to the local observatory. The girl showed hesitancy in sitting where the driver was usually located, being that his body was currently their transportation. The girl eventually shifted onto the boy's lap, immediately spiking the formers sexual hormones.<p>

He noticed that humans had a serious lack of self-control.

"You know what I don't understand?" The girl whispered as if he couldn't hear her. She might as well have been speaking at normal volume.

"Hmm?" Sam indicated for her to go on. Humans were also very passive; always waiting for approval from another member of their race.

"Why if he's supposed to be this super advanced robot does he transform into this piece of crap Camaro?" Bumblebee hit the brake and skidded to a halt, blocking two lanes on the highway and earning a few insults.

Once he had opened the passenger side door the humans scrambled out, knowing exactly what they had done wrong.  
>Bumblebee had had quite enough of various humans complaining about his alternate mode. First Sam who had practically gone on and <em>on<em> about custom, faded paint. The significance of which Bumblebee still did not understand. And then Miles who sniveled about how beat up and dirty he was. As _if _the boy had been any cleaner. Finally Mikaela, who was apparently associating his alternate with waste.

He knew why they didn't understand his choice, but they had never been faced with the reality of making the most convenient decision. Becoming a sports car had seemed frivolous and unnecessary at the time

He didn't throw them out because of their endless griping. He threw them out because he needed to reformat his body, if only to get them to shut up about that particular subject.

Bumblebee balanced on two wheels, allowing optical scanners to download the schematics of the most recent version of the Camaro line. His armor shifted and he was now a shiny, contemporary vehicle. As he drove up to the two humans, Sam gawked in disbelief.

"_What_?" He asked, going to the driver's side. Bumblebee's engine purred in satisfaction, and within a minute they were at the observatory.

Ignoring the "closed for renovation" notice, Bumblebee gently tapped the chain-link gates, which opened easily, and he drove past the monument, allowing for the humans to see the four comets enter the atmosphere.

They acted somewhat afraid, and half of Bumblebee expected this while the other expected them to be apathetic. Sam had approached him so boldly and fearlessly, and now the boy was exercising caution.

However, they quickly re-discovered their curiosity and bounded after the comet that was Optimus Prime. Bumblebee followed behind them, his agitation spiking again. They watched as Optimus unfolded from his pod mode and into his protoform.

As he ran to the two-lane highway on the other side of the bufff, Optimus sent out a transmission with rendezvous coordinates after they acquired their alternate modes.

Jazz knew what he would and would not be caught dead in. Using the Internet, he searched local dealerships and found something that he thought would be suitable for his frame. He landed on the roof of the Cadillac dealership, his light weight barely doing any damage. His servo gripping the sign did cause a slight malfunction. The cost of repairing the lights would be a fraction of reestablishing a whole store. He landed lightly, his cycles as a saboteur kicking in automatically. He turned on his peds, and then stood up.

A pretty, shiny Poniac Solstice had caught his optics, and he scanned it. He transformed and started toward the designated rendezvous point.

Ratchet had a very specific plan. His preferred alternate would be some sort of emergency vehicle, and since he didn't have enough time to track them down, he would have to bring them to him.

He crashed through a long-abandoned strip mall, immediately attracting the attention of the civilians that were in the area. Modified search and rescue Hummers arrived on scene, and he scanned one of the vehicles.

No one noticed an identical Hummer leaving the area.

Ironhide probably picked the worst place to land. He transformed into his protoform, being supported by some sort of wet substance. The chemical arrangement of the liquid identified it as water, a rather harmful thing that drowned most of Earth.

Crushing the concrete surrounding the random collection of the water, Ironhide climbed to cry ground as a youngling of the native species stared up at him.

"Excuse me, are you the tooth fairy?" She asked, effectively offending the weapons master.

Ironhide didn't respond, but was not happy to be associated with something as dainty and pretty as the fictional character Edward Cullen.

He heard panicked footsteps inside the house, and before the parental units of the youngling could see him, he ducked behind some trees. Turning, he was surprised to find an appropriate vehicle of size and mass. He scanned it, and was on his way to meet up with his team.

Once Bumblebee had gathered the humans again, they made their way to the secluded alley that would allow them to be in their bi-pedal forms as they explained who they are and what they needed.

Sam and Mikaela watched as blue Peterbilt truck with red flames rumbled toward them, and then stare at Jazz, Ironhide, and Ratchet.

They stood their ground as Optimus got as close as possible but with still enough room to transform. After he was almost done, the others initiated their transforming protocols, following their leader.

Optimus kneeled down so that they were optic-to-eye. He was surprised at the curiosity that had replaced the fear he had expected.

In fact, Optimus needed to pull away when the boy was in too close of proximity.

"Are you Samuel James Witwicky, descendant of Archibald Witwicky?" He asked. It was important to verify that this was the right human. Even Bumblebee was capable of making mistakes.

"He knew your name," the girl whispered. Optimus's gaze flicked to her, and she pulled back a little bit. He averted his optics. He hadn't meant to scare her.

"Yeah," the boy confirmed.

"My name is Optimus Prime," he introduced himself. It was Earthen as well as Cybertronian custom. The culture gap wasn't huge, but it was still significantly large. "We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron."

"But you can call us Autobots for short," Ratchet summarized. They didn't expect the humans to call them "autonomous robotic organisms" and the medic wanted to prevent them from being called "robots." While they were robotic in nature, it would be an insult to associate them with the humans primitive toys.

"Autobots," Sam repeated, a smile pulling at the edge of his mouth. Optimus wondered if this would have gone over well with the adults of the species, but decided not. The young were infinitely curious until they were taught to fear things.

"What's crackin' little bitches?" Jazz brought attention to himself as he rotated and twirled. This was common behaviour among all saboteurs. Distracting everyone around them while they were attuned to anything else. They were the ultimate multi-taskers.

"My first lieutenant, designation: Jazz," Optimus introduced as he gestured towards the saboteur.

"This looks like a cool place to kick it," Jazz commented, and then landed against an old junker car.

"How'd you learn to talk like that?" Sam asked.

"We've learned Earth's languages through the world wide web," Optimus explained, rising, but still not standing up. Ironhide's weapons systems activated, call attention to himself as Jazz had.

"My weapons specialist, Ironhide," he continued with the introductions, which his team was making a difficult and long process.

"You feelin' lucky, punk?" Ironhide asked, his cannons twirling around. There were a couple reasons he had immediately like the phrase when he first saw it on the Internet. First, it was sarcastic, one of his favorite things. Second, it was threatening, another one of his favorite things. And finally, he was insulting whomever he was addressing. All in four little words.

"Easy, Ironhide," Optimus repremanded, although he was amused. They were good friends, their loyalites lie in the same places, but they were entirely different. He exercised restraint, while Ironhide exercised his trigger digit.

"Just kidding, I just wanted to show him my cannons," Ironhide shrugged off the order, explaining his intent.

"Our medical officer, Ratchet," Optimus continued, finally more than halfway through with the introductions.

"Mmmm. The boy's pheromone levels suggest he wants to mate with the female," Ratchet enlightened everyone. If he could have, Bumblebee would have smirked. He knew that his hormones would do him in. His pleasure continued to grow as an awkwardness settled over the two humans.

"You already know your guardian, Bumblebee," Optimus glossed over the awkward moment as best he could.

Bumblebee started to punch the air, and bounced from ped to ped like a boxer warming up. "Check on the rep, yep, second to none," he stood straight up, shoulders back and arms at his sides but tensed. The overall affect was one of power.

"You're my guardian, huh?" Bumblebee nodded, pleased that the boy was receptive to his the scout's new title.

"His vocal processors were damaged in battle. I'm still working on 'em," Ratchet clarified before endless questions escaped the boy's mouth.

"Why are you here?" Mikaela was the one that asked the most glaring and obvious question.

"We are here for the AllSpark, and we must find it before Megatron," Optimus explained. The fun, airy atmosphere of the conversation disappeared as seriousness replaced it.

"Mega-what?" Sam asked, not catching the full name. Optimus paused for a moment, not knowing how to explain who the Decepticon lord was. It would probably be easier to explain what he wasn't; compassionate, reasonable, or even _nice_.

He put two digits to the tempral plate of his head, activating his hologram function. The humans backed away from what seemed like the crumbling ground, as the Kaon spires, famously decorated with the bodies of the dead, sprung up around them. Megatron was standing on top of a pile of bodies, Autobot and Decepticon insignias mixed together.

"Our planet was once a powerful empire, peaceful and just," Optimus narrated as he played the memory of a dead scout. "Until we were betrayed by Megatron, leader of the Decepticons. All who to fight them were destroyed. Our war finally consumed the planet, and the AllSpark was lost to the stars. Megatron followed it to Earth, where Captain Witwicky found him."

"My grandfather," Sam said in wonder.

"It was an accident that intertwined our fates," Optimus agreed, continuing. "Megatron crash landed before he could retrieve the Cube. He accidentally activated his navigations system. The coordinates to the Cubes location on Earth were imprinted on his glasses."

"How'd you know about his glasses?" Sam interrupted.

"Ebay," Optimus answered. He assumed that the boy would know, but he didn't realize how quickly humans forgot about their electronic footprints.

"Ebay," Sam repeated in amusement, looking at Mikaela. Again, the comedic interest was lost on the Autobots.

"If the Decepticons find the AllSpark they will use its power to transform Earth's machines and build a new army," Ratchet was accustomed to telling dire news. It was an unfortunate part of being a medic.

"And the human race will be extinguished, Sam Witwicky," Optimus revealed the ultimatum to the boy. "You hold the key to Earth's survival."

"Please tell me that you have those glasses," Mikaela said, looking up at the Autobots. She was still uneasy with their presence, but that was to be expected. Optimus was just thankful that she hadn't run away screaming.

After receiving coordinates, they made their way to the Witwicky residence.


	6. Just Hurry

A/N: Sorry about the super late update... forgive me? :D

I tried to fill the holes where it shows the humans talking... and if anything is out of character, sorry!

And Jazz totally goes AWOL for most of this scene. Never noticed that before...

Anyway, read and review!

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><p>Just Hurry<p>

Optimus followed the directions Bumblebee had given him, and eventually the young scout took the lead, driving down an empty alleyway alongside the Witwicky residence. They would be able to stay there, whereas parking on the street would draw unnecessary attention to them.

The boy got out of Bumblebee, giving Mikaela instructions to stay with them. Which was something the female was less than happy with.

After waiting in silence for about five seconds, Optimus transformed.

Mikaela stared up at him, the Autobot leader barely even glancing at her as he gave orders.

"Bumblebee, figure out the situation with the parental units, Ironhide and Ratchet follow my lead," he ordered, stepping between the trees and onto the lawn. Bumblebee had silently crept by the side of the house, eventually watching the conversation between Samuel and his father.

"No, just stay here," Mikaela whispered, but it was passive, as if she hadn't really meant it.

"Youngling, perhaps if you are more assertive, others will be willing to listen to you," Ironhide told her.

"What's a youngling?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Ironhide glanced at the medic.

"You got this one," he said, turning to watch the situation in the yard unfold.

Ratchet vented. "A youngling is a juvenile-" Mikaela flinched at the last word.

"Is there something wrong?" The medic inquired.

"Just the past catching up with me," she replied quietly, looking away from the medic. He didn't know whether it was from shame or discomfort in her neck from looking up at them.

"That happens to us all," he said solemnly.

Back in the yard, Bumblebee made a "shhing" sound, holding a digit next to a speaker where his mouth had originally been. He listened quietly as Sam panicked slightly, keeping his father from seeing the Autobots. Optimus continued his advance, followed behind by Ironhide. Bumblebee continued to monitor what was happening, and then more noise was made, and he made a "cut it" gesture across his throat. It was a small miracle the father hadn't demanded to see what was outside.

"Stop it!" He ordered through a comm. link.

"Bumblebee-" Optimus said reproachfully, but was then cut off by his scout.

"Well, no one will be quiet," Bumblebee's body language further conveyed his meaning. "We're clear," Bumblebee when Ron Witwicky retreated back into the living room.

Optimus stepped into the yard, causing the human to almost explode with panic.

"Watch the path! Watch the path! Please, please. No wait! NO! Oh no!" Sam switched from orders to begging almost immediately, and the disbelief when Optimus Prime crushed the bird bath.

"Oops. Sorry, my bad," Optimus apologized.

"Oh, I, gah- you couldn't- you couldn't wait for five minutes. I told you, stay, j-j-just stay. _God_," the boy ran off to talk with Mikaela, who had emerged from the bushes.

As they spoke, Optimus and Ironhide walked around the yard, very little to destroy now that the birdbath was now a pile of rubble.

"Oh, this is bad. No! Mojo! Mojo! Off the robot!" Ironhide felt warm liquid land on one of his ped support plates and stepped back, and saw a small, rat-like animal.

"Ugh. _Wet_," he said, flipping the tiny mammal with the same plate that had been assaulted by its bio-fluids.

"Nonononono. Easy. Hold on, hol- this Mojo. This is Mojo. He's a pet of mine, he's a pet. Okay? Thats all," the boy explained, picking up the offending animal.

Ironhide activated his guns, his bad day catching up with him. First he had been called a fairy, a _fairy_. He was an Autobot warrior, not some dainty, pretty, magical woodland creature. Now an a canine was confusing him with a fire hydrant. If anything or anyone else thought he was something that he wasn't, he was going to have a serious identity crisis.

"Put the guns away, put 'em away," Sam ordered when his weapons started to activated. The boy got_ closer _instead of backing away. This was a rare occurrence around the weapons master.

"You have a rodent infestation," Ironhide informed him gruffly. "Shall I terminate?" Optimus rolled his optics at the inquiry. He knew that his weapons master wouldn't kill their only way to get the AllSpark. He was just blowing off steam.

And Ratchet wasn't helping the situation by snickering.

"Nononono. This a chiuaua. We love chiuauas, don't we?" Sam looked for confirmation from the girl, who had apparently lost their fear of them, standing at point-blank range of the cannons.

"He's leaked lubricants all over my foot. Hmph," Ironhide stated the problem.

"He peed on you?" Sam clarified, and then shook the dog at Ironhide's ped. "Bad Mojo."

"Bad Mojo," the weapons master repeated.

"Its a male dominance thing. Thats all it is."

"Eh. Its gonna rust," Ironhide said as he turned around.

"Alright," Sam said, now that another disaster avoided. He ran between Optimus's legs, dodging when the Autobot turned around.

"Whoa, okay, okay. Shh! Shh!"

"Just hurry," Optimus said. This was taking far too long. If a sabotage, or even an infiltration team had been there, they would already be on their way to find the Cube. "Autobots, recon."

Bumblebee, being the second shortest of the group, stooped below the hanging porch lights to observe the parental units. They were watching a local news channel, which was showing the trail of overturned dirt that Optimus had created.

"Human media has picked up on the landings," he commed. "Nothing of serious consequence, though."

Optimus looked down at Mikaela, who was keeping a distance that would prevent her from being stepped on. He stooped down, lowering his servo next to her legs. She looked at the appendage, and then to Optimus's optics.

"Your companion needs assistance," he coaxed patiently. He could tell that the girl was less adaptive to the situation than Sam, and was doing as much as he could to reassure that she, hopefully, wouldn't get killed.

In jerky, unassured movements, Mikaela lowered herself down so that she was sitting in his palm. There was no way in _hell_ that she would be standing as she took an unconventional elevator ride to the second story of the Witwicky residence.

She grimaced as she was taken higher into the air. The height didn't bother her, nor the fear of falling. It was more from the fact that she was painfully aware that her butt was on the giant robot leader's hand.

"Time is short," Optimus explained as the boy gaped at Mikaela's arrival. He was a robot, and he had literally gotten more ass than Sam had gotten his entire life.

The universe was officially whacked.

"They really want those glasses," Mikaela said as Sam helped her climb over the window sill.

"Please hurry," Optimus said, peering into the boy's room. And what in the name of Primus was that _smell_? It couldn't possibly be an odor that humans enjoyed.

He stepped back as the humans continued on their mission, which Optimus noted, for the thirteenth time that night (he _had_ been counting) was going rather slowly ans unsuccessfully.

"Autobots, transform," Optimus ordered, he and his comrades folding themselves into their alternates.

Their audio receptors picked up the frantic conversation of Sam and Mikaela, a comment from the latter somewhat confusing them.

"Well, they're gonna be pissed, so what'd you wanna do?" She asked. It was assumed that they would be something that they did not currently know about.

Googling it, because Google was considered to be the superior search engine on Earth, they searched the term "pissed." The first three sites that popped up were all online dictionaries. The first link told them that in their current location itmeant to be angry or very annoyed, the second telling them that in England, Australia, and New Zealand, it meant to be intoxicated by alcohol. The third link was to .

Needless to say, the ever curious Bumblebee and the mischievous Jazz selected the third link, finding the same results as the first two. However, the scout was wondering what was, while the saboteur was wondering what made it different, which brought them both to the archive of the website. They saw every term and every result of that term in less than half a second.

Optimus transformed, hoping to clarify that failure would not result in intoxication or anger. He stepped up to the window, unaware that he was crushing organic flora so that he could speak with one of them face to face.

Sam rushed up to him, glistening with perspiration. He looked out, below the window. "No, no, no," he sighed, the panic receding. He should have expected destruction. They were giant robots. "Those are my mom's flowers," he explained.

"Oops," was Optimus's only apology, as he looked at the pink flowers that seemed to be sprouting between his ped supports.

"You gotta listen to me," Sam said with urgency. Optimus supported himself by placing his servos on the sides of the house. "If my parents come out here and they see you they're gonna freak out. My mother's got a temper. Okay?"

Optimus groaned. "We_ must_ have the glasses."

"I know you need the glasses," Sam promised. He had heard it about a billion times. "I've been looking everywhere. They're not here, they're definitely not here."

Optimus groaned again, placing his hand to his tempral plate in aggravation. "Keep searching," he instructed. One servo was left on the house now, curled into a fist as Optimus tried to reign in his annoyance and keep from destroying the residence. Despite his obvious tension, Sam did not back down.

"Look, I need you guys to be quiet for five minutes. Ten minutes. I'm begging you. You're making a racket. I can't- I can't concentrate, you want me to look and I can't-"

"Calm down, calm down," Optimus encouraged, nodding his head. The boy was right in his observation that their urgency was making things worse.

"You gotta do somethin' here. You gotta do somethin'," Sam said, hearing some of the other Autobots shift from ped to ped.

"Autobots, fall back," Optimus ordered, standing from his crouch.

"Five minutes," Sam promised as the Autobots made their way to the street.

"Move!" Ironhide said to Ratchet.

"Get away!" He replied, shoving Ironhide forward. This petty banter was not missed by Optimus.

"What's the matter with you?" He demanded. "Can't you be quiet? He wants us to be quiet!"

Ratchet, listening to his leader ran into nearby power lines, which Ironhide could have probably warned him about. The lights to his alternate flashed and the emergency sirens whoop accelerated while his torso twisted all the way around. He stumbled back and fell on the greenhouse, causing a small seismic wave.

"Wow, that was tingly!" He commented, staring at Ironhide, who was looking down at the medic in amusement. "Try that!" Ratchet advised.

"Yeah, that looks fun," Ironhide waved his arm dismissively and turned back to Optimus and Bumblebee.

The lights on the street went out, and Optimus glared at him accusingly. "What did you do?"

"Uh, hey!" Sam called. "We, uh, can't see in the dark."

The Autobots reconvened near Sam's room. "Ratchet, point the light," Optimus said, and the medic dutifully turned on his headlights so that the humans would be able to use their optical senors, which, apparently, did not sit well with Sam.

"C'mon, hurry," Ironhide rumbled as the humans continued to panic at the approach of the parental units.

"Shut it off, shut it off," Sam said, and then turned to Ironhide. "You gotta tell him to shut it off."

That was when Ron Witwicky started yelling. Mikaela scrambled for a hiding place, and Sam barely made it to the door before the end of his father's count down.

The Autobots waited, listening to the conversation. Thanks to , Jazz and Bumblebee knew exactly what Judy Witwicky meant when she accused Sam of masturbating.

Ron and Judy inspected the room after further embarrassing Sam.

"Parents," Optimus said, making sure Ratchet and himself were out of sight. He took one too many steps forward, and he was staring at the father.

"Whoa," he said in surprise, and pivoted back so that he was against one of the walls, which shook the house. Luckily, the father attributed this to an aftershock of an earthquake, which Ratchet had been the cause of.

"Quick, hide!" Optimus said, while circling with one digit.

"Hide," Ironhide repeated, searching for an appropriate spot for his large frame to stay concealed.

"Hide? Where?" Jazz demanded, almost giving them away when Ron looked out the window. Ratchet and Ironhide ended up on one side of the house, stooping below any second story windows. Bumblebee hid beneath the haning lights of the yard, and Jazz had managed to curl in on himself so that he fit on the porch. Optimus was leaning back against the roof.

Miraculously, when Ron looked out the window, he didn't see any giant robot aliens, only a destroyed yard. Once he had retreated back inside, Ironhide's cannons started twirling.

"The parents are very irritating," he said.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ratchet agreed, trying to calm the weapons master down.

"Can I take them out?"

"Ironhide! You know we don't harm humans. What is with you? " Optimus said, effectively denying permission to kill Ron and Judy.

"Well, I'm just saying we could," Ironhide explained. "Its an option."

"Sir," Bumblebee commed. "There are five government vehicles approaching rapidly. From the west." Optimus turned to see the black SUV's.

"Retreat," he ordered, and they backed out of the yard and hid in the alleyway.

"Just what we need," Ironhide commented. "More humans making this more complicated."

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><p>AN: Yes, Urban Dictionary is really the third link when you google "pissed." I checked. And the American/British terms are right, I checked that, too.

I do so much research for you guys.

Just kidding, it took, like, three seconds.

Yes, I am pregidous against all other search engines except Google. It's a _verb_ for Primus' sake!

And the Autobots use it, so suck on that Bing. :P

Love you!


	7. Capture

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers... but be ready for me when I do.

A/N: So, this will be a more serious chapter being that our poor little Bee gets hurt by the S7 assholes.

Anyways, read and review.

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><p>Optimus pulled ahead of the leading vehicle, and turned onto their street. He transformed, rolled in front of them, and stood, just as the SUV made crashed into his right leg. He felt it, but by no means did it hurt. It was just a fifteen hundred pound car barreling into his leg at seventy miles an hour. No problem.<p>

He heard the panicked yelps from the government-affiliated humans, the two teenagers in the backseat instructing other cars braked before hitting the surprise obstacle. He stepped to the side, another car crashing into him.

Optimus turned on his headlights, compromising the vision of the occupants. His digits burst through the side windows of the leading SUV, and he lifted the car easily. His systems groaned, but eventually settled back into working order. For his workout regimen, he lifted heavier things... to warm up.

Gravity and pressure from his servos caused the roof of the vehicle to pop off. The SUV dropped back down to the ground, bouncing before settling. He turned off his headlights, the two humans gaping up at him. He tossed the roof like it was scrap metal, which it was. So structurally weak.

Sam was the first to speak. "You two a-holes are in trouble now. Gentlemen, I wanna introduce you to my friend: _Optimus Prime_."

"Taking the children was a bad move," Optimus said. In response the humans gathered and aimed their guns at the alien robotic life form. They showed their bravery, or one might think it as blatant stupidity, but their reaction time was something to be desired.

"Autobots, relieve them of their weapons," Optimus ordered, uncaring to whether or not he was fired at. This confrontation threatened to make him go into recharge from the boredom.

Bumblebee and Jazz jumped off the bridge, landing lightly. The latter had more style in his various flips, but the scout achieved graceful simplicity. Ironhide and Ratchet, though managing grace as well, landed heavily. Their jobs didn't require them to be quiet.  
>Because of the force, the humans that were standing lost their balance, but before they righted themselves, the rest of the Autobots were upon them.<p>

It didn't take long to figure out that they were wielding weapons, waiting for any order for the lethal devices to be used.

Agent Simmons saw this immediately, and tried to diffuse the situation. "WHOA WHOA WHOA!" He repeated this like he was on an incredibly loud and rather annoying loop.

"Freeze!" Ironhide ordered as soon as weapons were aimed at him.

"Gimme those," Jazz said as he disarmed their assailants. Immediately, almost reflexively Optimus noted, they raised their arms in the air in submission, showing that they were no longer a threat.

Not that they were before. Water guns probably being more effective on the count that it could make them rust.

"Whoa," Simmons said appreciatively as he turned back to Jazz, who had used a magnetic force to rip the weapons out of the human's hands.

Optimus Prime lowered himself, a harsh stare directed at Simmons and his cohort.

"Hi, there," Agent Simmons said, waving his had slightly.

Optimus leaned closer. "You don't seem afraid," he said. "Are you not surprised to see us?" Even after meeting Bumblebee, and at least deducing that they were the good guys, Sam and Mikaela stared up at them in awe. Optimus expected other humans, especially adults, to be intimidated or at least feel threatened. Simmons was only slightly surprised.

Of course, it was helped by the fact that they had damaged their vehicles and not any humans.

"Look. There are S7 protocols, okay?" Simmons explained, his voice breaking in panic. "I'm not authorized to communicate with you except to tell you I can't communicate with you."

"Get out of the car," Optimus said menacingly. He hated, absolutely _hated_ when someone refused to share information on the count that they were not authorized. If you were authorized enough to know it, you're authorized enough to share it. His anger was only heightened by the fact that they had taken Sam and Mikaela into custody without the children knowing what charges had been pressed against them.

That was another thing Optimus hated. Mistreatment of children of any race for any reason.

And who knows. They could be hiding Megatron himself in their basement.

"Alright," Simmons said, gripping the door handle. "You want-"

"NOW!" Optimus raised his vocal levels to what would be considered a shout. The human was wasting time, something the Autobots were short on.

"Alright. Get out. Alright," he put his hand on the door handle, and glanced back at Optimus, explaining every action that he was taking. "I'm getting out, you see. turns to OP its pretty nifty how you put us down without really killing us," he congratulated, expecting a response, and the only thing he got was a cold glare from Optimus.

"Hey, uh, how you doin'? How's it goin' there, huh?" Simmons asked staring up at Ratchet. One of Optimus's faceplates twitched. He hadn't been this irritated... ever. Never had he so desperately wanted to get rid of a living being.

Maybe if he accidentally fell forward... but he quickly repressed the thought, and how much satisfaction it would bring him. _Freedom is the right of all sentient beings,_ he reminded himself, and then added. _Even if it includes the right to be ridiculously annoying_.

"This is _real_," Simmons continued his chatter, and then addressed his underlings. "Mum is the word, alright? Big guys, big guys with big guns."

Optimus rolled his optics in exasperation at the keen observation.

Luckily, their own human allies were about to deal with the situation.

"What is Sector Seven?" Sam demanded, and when there was a pause, he ordered forcefully. "Answer me."

"I am the one that asks questions around here, not you, young man," Simmons shouted back.

"How'd you know about the aliens?" Mikaela asked.

"Where did you take my parents?" Sam said. Their vehicle had been in a different caravan.

"I am not at liberty to discuss that," Simmons told them, looking back and forth between the two teenagers.

"No?" Sam asked and then reached to the inside of the agent's suit, grabbing a badge.

"Hey!" Simmons protested. "If you touch me, thats a federal offense." Unfortunately, the odds were in the teenager's favor, being that they had five heavily armed Autobots on their side.

"Do whatever you want and get away with it badge, right?" Sam asked, smirking. He and Mikaela took a few steps away and looked at the government-issued, slightly scratched card. In a protective plastic cover, of course.

"Brave now with his big alien friends standing over there," Simmons noted aloud, and Ironhide rotated his cannons in warning. Optimus didn't reprimand him. It would probably be a favor to them all if he was just blasted on the spot.

"Where's Sector Seven? Sam asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Simmons replied. In response, Bumblebee sprayed lubrication all over the man. The scout didn't tolerate any disrespect towards his friends.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Simmons yelled under the unrelenting shower of the foreign fluid.

"Bumblebee, stop lubricating the man," Optimus ordered. The scout, knowing that he wasn't in any kind of trouble just shrugged. It was pretty much a universal agreement that Simmons deserved some humiliation. Bumblebee had even witnessed a few humans repressing satisfied smiles.

"Get that thing to stop!" Simmons yelled, his suit dripping with the lubricant.  
>Sam stepped forward. "His <em>name<em> is Bumblebee. He's not a thing." The scout whirred in agreement and gave a quick nod.

"Isn't that a wimpy name for a giant robot," Simmons snarled, stepping up to the boy to confront him. He stopped immediately when Ironhide's two cannons were aimed at his chest. "At least Optimus Prime sounds powerful," Simmons grumbled, his gaze flicking up to the red and blue robot.

The Prime didn't appreciate the description of his designation. It brought up haunting whispers, warnings from Megatron.

_You have more power than you realize, Prime. Use it, and join me. Together we will change Cybertron forever. _

_Yet again you disappoint me, Optimus... or should I call you Orion Pax? Remember when you couldn't form a sentence around our dear Elita?_

_Optimus Prime, descendant of the ancients. What a disappointment you must be._

_Do you remember the stories of The Fallen, Optimus? I always disagreed with his name. He simply rose above the worthless masses._

_Power has corrupted those before you. Its only a mater of time before you join them._

"Optimus, incoming!" The weapons master warned as the Autobot leader snapped back to the present. He stepped back, Bumblebee, Jazz, Ironhide and Ratchet assuming battle positions. Ironhide pounded the ground, a electric mechanical lock shooting across the pavement towards the oncoming black SUV's. Involuntarily, the brakes engaged, inhibiting the ground vehicles. Now the only problem was those four damn helicopters.

"Roll out," immediately, all the Autobots except Optimus transformed and sped away from the conflict. They split up, going four different directions, and they would be even harder to track as as emergency and civilian vehicles. That left only Optimus, Sam andMikaela at the intersection where the Autobots had intercepted the government transport. He lowered down, the two teenagers climbing into his hand.

"Bumblebee will retrieve you shortly," he assured them, and then let them climb to his right shoulder. Once they finally got situated, he started at a slow jog. He needed to be conspicuous to get the humans focused on him. Bumblebee will rendezvous at the bridge, extracting Sam and Mikaela, along with the glasses. The Optimus would lose the humans and meet back at the observatory. It will work fine if everything goes according to plan. Sam and Mikaela would make it out unscathed... as long as Optimus was correct in his assumption that the other humans wouldn't shoot if it risked killing the teenagers.

Optimus Prime ran through the streets, careful to avoid causing any serious accidents and eventually came upon the rendezvous point. Slipping out of sight, which was more out of luck than actual planning, he took the opportunity to hide.

"I'm going to jump," he warned the humans sitting on his shoulder, and before they could protest, he was gripping the concrete support beam of the bridge.

"As I position myself horizontally, I need you to climb onto my back," he instructed patiently. Sam and Mikaela did as they were told silently. Optimus's theory that requesting rather then ordering worked better in high-stress situations, especially when those that were being spoken to were not accustomed to the lifestyle of war.

Optimus swung one leg up, the humans doing just as they were told. The other was in position just as the helicopters crossed under the bridge.

"Easy you two," he said. The humans were becoming unstable, their heart rates increasing and adrenaline running rampant through their systems. Mikaela was leaning over dangerously, watching Bumblebee approach them.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Mikaela fell.

Optimus watched in horror as Sam tried to help the girl back up, to no avail. He could do nothing, absolutely nothing but watch and hope that they didn't fall to their deaths. Mikaela's weight eventually proved too much for the boy's muscles and he fell off Optimus's shoulder.

"_Hold on!_" Optimus yelled as he dropped his legs down, hoping that they could catch his peds and avoid spattering against the cement.

They didn't.

They crashed against Optimus's peds, only prolonging their fall and earning a few bruises before every bone in their body broke.

Optimus waited for the sickening cracks that he knew he would hear, but another sound reached his audio receptors. Bumblebee was sliding across the pavement.

Relief overcame him, only to be replaced by panic as harpoons were aimed at his scout.

"Stop! Stop!" Sam screamed as the helicopters circled his guardian. Bumblebee was oblivious to the danger to himself. The only threat he saw was to Sam and Mikaela. A threat he was ready and willing to protect them from. Bumblebee didn't realize he was the target until it was too late.

A harpoon wrapped itself around his wrist, puncturing his wrist cables and nearly shredding them. Bumblebee let his arm be pulled until there was no slack and the line was tight. He could easily flick the helicopter back to the bridge, destroy it and killing its occupants.

But that's not what Autobots did, and Bumblebee was an Autobot to the core of his Spark.

From there on, the attacks of the harpoons were quick. First at his other arm so that he was being stretched out with no way to defend himself. Sector Seven had practiced these maneuvers and executed them perfectly.

It was now only a matter of time until he was taken captive.

Another harpoon pierced through his leg, pain lacing through his body as he shuddered.

It hurt. It hurt so bad, there was nothing he could do to defend himself.

All the while, Sam was screaming for mercy to be shown to his guardian. It took the last harpoon to wrap around his last limb and flip Bumblebee on his chest plates to show both the boy and the scout that no mercy would be spared today.

Bumblebee whirred, looking at his charge, his wide blue optics filled with fear and reflected back in Sam's eyes.

"Help me," he sent over a comm. "Please, Optimus." He had to do something.

"We can't," the Prime replied. As it echoed in Bumblebee's processors, it began to morph into "We _won't_."

Bumblebee couldn't believe it. His hero wasn't protecting him the one time he needed to be protected.

Optimus cringed as he watched Bumblebee writhe on the ground, producing metallic screams that only a youngling could manage.

Bumblebee tried to stand, getting up to one knee, but was jerked back down by the harpoons that were shredding the cables in his wrists. Portable cyro freezers did as their name implied, they froze his lines, the Energon inside them moving dangerously slow.

"He's not fighting back!" The scout had to take it. He was handicapped by his own morals.

He reached out to his charge, their optics and eyes conveying their silent communication, and Sam escaped the grip of the Sector Seven agent that had tried to take him into custody.

He sprinted toward Bumblebee, ripping the cyro freezer away from another agent and aimed it at said agent's head. When Sam was tackled, Bumblebee gave up all hope, and ceased the minor struggle he had been keeping up.

The cold washed over him, making him flinch away as he whirred in pain.

_Stop_, he whispered mentally. _Please stop._

"We're gonna get you back, Bee." With Jazz's promise, the scout slipped into stasis and away from the pain.

Sector Seven collected Bumblebee's limp form and retreated, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the four Autobots that were watching from the bridge.

"Hang back, le' me check it out," Jazz said to Ironhide and Ratchet after he transformed. The reasons to why they had abandoned the scout were beyond him. He dropped down below the bridge where Optimus, who immediately turned away from his lieutenant.

"Optimus," Jazz said roughly, getting the Prime to stop his climbing on the cement structure. "Are we just gonna stand here and do nothing?"

"There's no way to harm Bumblebee without harming the humans," he replied. Be as it may, both mechs knew that there was absolutely no way to justify leaving Bumblebee behind.

"But it's not right-"

"Let them leave," Optimus ordered. His words were final, and Jazz knew not to push him. All of them suffered while they watched as their scout writhe in pain and be taken away by the... enemy. There was no other way to describe Sector Seven.

Optimus dropped to the ground, his optics focusing on the glasses that held all the answers. Without his battle routines kicking in, he had the unwelcome time to reflect on what he had just done. Never before had the Prime felt so completely helpless. He was forced to realize that Megatron had been right. The Autobot principles, their way of life, limited them. It divided them from the Decepticons, but at what cost?

Optimus walked to where the glasses were, and before he picked them up, he had answered his own question.

The cost of and Autobot life. But not just any Autobot life.

Bumblebee's.

* * *

><p>AN: I put that memory part in there to just kind of show the relationship between Optimus and Megatron, and to skip the part where Mikaela makes Simmons strip. I also mentioned The Fallen because I plan on continuing this with two other fics that do the same thing as this one for ROTF and DOTM.


	8. PreBattle Mindset

Disclaimer: I don't own Tranformers

A/N: You _guys_! Hugs and kisses to you all! At like 6 a.m. I checked my email and there were a ton of alerts and favs! Thanks so much for supporting what I'm doing! Damn that's a lot of exclaimation points... I'll have to stop that.

To all that have reveiwed: thank you so much, whenever I get one I smile. :) And, its what made me whip this one out so fast.

Important: I used the f-bomb three times in the following chapter, and though I'm sure I've used choice words before, for some reason that word seems to be a whole 'nother level. So, you have been warned.

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><p>Pre-Battle Mindset<p>

* * *

><p>"Get that thing to the Restrictor," Simmons ordered in that grating voice of his. <em>Restrictor<em>, Bumblebee mused darkly, _that doesn't sound good._

He briefly considered rolling over and crushing the human, but then pushed away the thought. He was an Autobot. He represented freedom and justice and all that other scrap.

They were still attacking his body with the cyro freezers, but by now he had built up a defense and the weapons that had been so effective were now useless. Perhaps that was why he was being sent to the _Restrictor_.

Bumblebee thought about how much it would suck to get killed off by something with such a bad name. The only thing that made the situation remotely humorous is the way the man had said it. _The Restrictor_.

He would have escaped, there had been ample opportunities to do so. But he was just so... tired. Tired and sore and Primus knows he needs a _very_ long recharge. Bumblebee tried to shove away the thought that death was the longest and most permanent kind of recharge there is.

He was dropped onto a slab of metal, and cables tied into his already shredded wrists, preventing any escape. Of course he could, if he got the cables to cut through, but Bumblebee found his servos to be quite useful, for picking up things and one even turned into a cannon. They were quite convenient and tearing them off would be losing two very valuable tools, not to mention it would be painful to do so.

Speaking of pain, the Sector Seven personnel introduced Bumblebee to a whole new horror.

They were now shooting a concentrated electric shock into his very Spark.

* * *

><p>"<em>Please<em>. Let this work," Optimus begged to whatever deity that had a whim to help them along with their mission. If this had all been for nothing, if Bumblebee was being tortured for something that was never worth pursuing in the first place, he had no idea what he had done for the gods to punish him so.

"Fire it up Optimus," Jazz said, standing on the rooftop above the others.

"The code..." He started it amazement, and then had to repeat himself because it _worked_, it actually worked. The gods seemed to be in their favor today. "The code on these glasses indicates the Allspark is two-hundred and thirty miles from here."

"I sense the Decepticons are getting ready to mobilize," Ratchet supplied, always the bearer of bad news. He was used to it, and the mechs currently around him had come to expect a tragedy to come out of his mouth whenever he opened it.

"They must know its here as well," Ironhide said. There was no way that the Decepticons would actively search for something that had been so well hidden by the humans. But now that it was time for Energon to be spilled, they were getting excited.

"What about Bumblebee?" Jazz asked, bringing the most disturbing issue back to the forefront of their processors "We can't just leave him to die, and become some human experiment." This conclusion was supported throughout the media. No human, except what seemed to be Sam and Mikaela, would have a problem hurting something they didn't understand.

"He'll die in vain if we don't accomplish our mission," Optimus replied. "Bumblebee is a brave soldier; this is what he would want." He would die a true Autobot, if it came down to that tragic end. Optimus was proud that he had known the youngling.

"Why are we fighting to save the humans?" Ironhide asked. "They're a primitive, and violent race."

"Were we so different?" Optimus countered. "They're a young species, they have much to learn. But I've seen goodness in them. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. You all know there is one way to end this war. We must destroy the Cube." They had finally come to the ultimatum, an ultimatum that would kill the already dying Cybertron. "If all else fails, I will unite it with the Spark in my chest."

"That's suicide," Ratchet snapped. "The Cube it raw power, it would destroy you both."

"A necessary sacrifice to bring peace to this planet," it was time that Optimus accepted his fate. "We cannot let the humans pay for our mistakes. Its been an honor serving with you all. Autobots, roll out." There was a finality in his words, twisted with the graceful eloquence.

* * *

><p>Bumblebee emitted electric shrieks, knowing that it didn't take a human much brain power to figure out that it was the Cybertronian version of a scream. If he were to die, he would make them regret it. He would make them hear his cries of pain and his pleas for mercy before they went asleep every night.<p>

He would haunt them in the ghosts they conjured from the darkest depths of their minds. He would make them regret their actions, make them see their faults, and have them know that the consequences were permanent and irreparable.

He would make them pay.

Then sweet, blessed Primus smile down on him. "Stop! Stop! You gotta stop!" Bumblebee heard the wonderfully familiar shrieks from Sam. The boy had hunted him down.

"No, no. Stop," an unfamiliar voice called. And the assault ended, the cables around his wrists snaking away.

"Let 'im go. Let 'im go," Sam ordered, making eye-contact with his guardian. Bumblebee's screams echoed, bouncing against the metal walls.

"You okay?" Sam asked, and Bumblebee looked to his rescuer in disbelief. "They didn't hurt you, right?"

"_Yeah_," he answered as his battle visor snapped down. He was no longer big and lovable, as he had proved to be to Sam and Mikaela. He was lethal, and he had full intention of using his solar cannon on _something_.

Of course, Sam wasn't even fazed by the change in demeanor of his guardian. However, the other humans flinched visibly, which satisfied Bumblebee. His cannon was aimed at the humans that weren't his charges, as he rolled into a defensive position.

"Listen to me, the Cube is here and the Decepticons are comin,'" Sam continued, who seemed to be the only human to put a coherent thought together and then say it aloud. Quite a feat, considering that normally, he would be the least expected to do so.

Then the boy finally seemed to notice his guardian's hostility and made the connection that he might act on that hostility. "No, no, no. They're okay. Right?" Sam reassured, but Bumblebee stood continued to ignore his charge. His arm shifted back and forth, aiming at the other humans. The boy could say all he wanted. It didn't change the fact that the other humans were still a threat.

"They're not gonna hurt you," Sam said, and then spoke to the other humans. "Just back up a little bit. He's friendly; he's fine." He looked at Bumblebee, a pleading look in his eyes. "Put the guns down. They're not gonna hurt you. The scout had to keep from using the sound clip of a scoff. He would believe that when he saw it.

"Now come with me, we're gonna take you to the AllSpark." Now _that _was promising.. Why hadn't he opened with that?

After a pause, where Bumblebee surveyed the assembled humans, he transformed. He would much rather prefer to be in his bi-pedal mode, but he had a feeling the corridors weren't built for a sixteen foot tall robot.

"So friggin' cool," a human whispered. Unfortunately, the room had gone silent and they might have well just yelled.

"Let's go," Sam said, and was supported by an excited rev from Bumblebee.

"Right this way," Simmons said, shocked by the turn of events.

They walked, as Bumblebee drove, through the corridors silently. But Captain William Lennox had a question nagging at him, and the fact that he could die in the next twenty-four hours gave him the courage to voice it.

"So, do you, um, talk?" He asked, focusing on the rear window, not knowing where to look. Bumblebee liked that he addressed him directly instead of quietly asking Sam or Mikaela. Unfortunately, he couldn't answer.

"His vocal processors were damaged in battle," Mikaela replied, repeating what Ratchet had said the last night. Suddenly, that had seemed so long ago.

"How do you know that?" Lennox asked. Now, this was something that didn't happen every day. Two kids that seemed to be a few steps ahead of the government. Of course, it wasn't every day that he was pulled in to fight a war against aliens.

Today was just all fucked up.

"There are _others_," Simmons grumbled, supplying the answer while fuming.

"There are _allies_," Sam snapped. Bumblebee was beginning to like the kid more and more.

"And enemies," he supplied with his radio, using an old movie clip.

Epps said exactly what they were all thinking. "Fuck."

"But, it has to be okay, 'cause we're all allies, right?" Simmons assured, more for himself than anyone else. "Right, buddy?" Simmons went like he was about to pat Bumblebee's hood.

The yellow Camaro revved his engine. Loudly, aggressively, angrily. It was a warning which Simmons heeded, pulling back awkwardly.

And Lennox did the only thing he could. He laughed.

Because today was all fucked up.

That was when they reached the AllSpark, and Bumblebee shot forward. It had been so long since he had seen the Cube in all its glory. Sam and Mikaela ran to keep up with him, while the rest of the human group hung back.

Bumblebee transformed near one corner and whirred in excitement. He wiggled his digits in anticipation, and then touched what had created all Cybertronians. Blue energy ran across the AllSpark, and it started folding in on itself. It remembered Bumblebee, it remembered granting life to the strong, albeit abnormally small Spark.

It was the most mesmerizing thing that Bumblebee had ever seen. The way it retracted into a smaller, portable version of itself that shouldn't have been possible.

Bumblebee caught it with one servo, and placed the other on it. It shocked him, familiarizing itself with him, and then he could hold the Cube.

"Message from Starfleet, Captain. Let's get to it," Bumblebee said, looking at their now-allies.

"He's right, if we stay here, we're screwed," Lennox said, immediately going back to what training had taught him. "Mission City is twenty-two miles away, we're gonna sneak that cube outta here and hide it somewhere in the city."

"Good, right!" Defense Secretary Keller said. The Sec Def may have been a soldier once upon a time, but now he was a black suit. An official in Washington that panicked once the fight started.

"But we cannot make a stand without the Air Force," Lennox countered, and left his superior to figure out that problem. "Sir, you have to figure out some sort of way to get word out to them. Let's move. Alright, Sam, get in the car. Mr. Secretary, get our birds into the air, when we get into the city we're gonna find a radio of F-sector romaro."

"Affirmative!" A soldier replied, everyone launching into the pre-battle mindset.

"Set up perimeter around the yellow vehicle!" Lennox yelled as they headed for their own transports.

Civilians watched in confusion as a flashy yellow Camaro lead a troop of military vehicles away from Hoover Dam.


	9. What's Relevant

A/N: I'm sorry. I haven't even looked at this in like, one to two weeks. I don't even know. Sorry!

* * *

><p>What's Relevant<p>

Bumblebee relayed the somewhat-decided strategy to Prime, and their paths crossed on the desert highway leading to Mission City. Optimus pulled a maneuver that shouldn't have been possible for a semi-truck, doing and eighty-miles-an-hour U-turn on a two-lane highway. Jazz, Ironhide and Ratchet pushed ahead of their leader, integrating themselves into the military-vehicle caravan. Luckily, the humans didn't waste any time assuming the that they were civilian drivers. They had all seen that there _were_ no drivers.

Without following the human traffic laws, the Autobots and their forced allies made it to the freeway in no time. Of course, along with the more direct way, there were other humans that were driving with them. To prevent any unnecessary accidents, Bumblebee, Jazz,

Ironhide and Ratchet went ahead, barricading the lanes so that no vehicles could pass them.

"Barricade is trailing," Ratchet warned just as the sirens reached Optimus's audio receptors. The Prime blocked the fake police car, earning retaliation from another Decepticon that the hadn't had the pleasure meeting.

The tanish-yellow 'Con transformed on the freeway, skating on wheels that had replaced his peds. He ran into random cars shoving them into the median divider or onto the dry earth that lined the freeway.

Optimus had to intervene until innocent humans were killed. He transformed running forwards and then digging his peds into the concrete as his momentum forced him to continue in his former direction. Just as he turned, ready to engage his enemy, he was attacked. They grappled, but the 'Con's momentum forced them off the overpass.

Optimus managed to grip the side, but the 'Con pulled the Prime down with him, and then landed on another overpass. Optimus shoved away the Decepticon's head like a child might when frustrated with a play mate. The 'Con punched Optimus, but it was weak.

Optimus rose quickly, turning back on his enemy and then hitting his head so hard the 'Con's optic dislodged from its place, and

Optimus threw the 'Con over the side. He followed his adversary, landing on the ground in a crouch.

The Decepticon lunged at him with a fork-like appendage, but Optimus pivoted back behind a pillar.

Listening intently, he waited. The 'Con was telling him everything he needed to know with his loud footsteps. His Energon sword ejected from his wrist, and at the right time, he stepped out. He severed the Decepticon's arm, wrapped him in a headlock., and shoved his sword through his neck. He flung the body away from him, the head dropping down, clinking against the metal surface.  
>It had been over so quickly it was almost a joke.<p>

Optimus stepped over the body, evaluating his work. It was a clean cut. The Decepticon hadn't suffered, which is a fate he hadn't deserved.

Now Optimus had to figure out how to get to Mission City from here.

The humans were still finalizing their strategy, something that didn't sit well with Ironhide. They were wasting time, precious time, waiting for air cover to find them. The weapon's master was fully and completely aware that it made them perfect targets for an aerial assault from the Decepticons. There had been one and only important rule for ground units: keep moving. At all times. No matter what.

His optics focused on an F-22 Raptor. Humans didn't fly aircraft like that. But a certain Decepticon Air-Commander did.

"It's Starscream!" He yelled, transforming. Humans screamed and ran away in panic, which Ironhide saw as a good thing. The farther away they were the less likely they were to be killed.

"Back up! Take cover!" He ordered, shooing away the humans and his fellow Autobots. He ran towards a Ferby truck, which would help block most of the air strike. "Bumblebee!" He called, the young scout leaping to attention immediately. They lifted the truck easily, as Ironhide continued to instruct their allies, who were still standing in the same places, disbelief taking over their judgement.

"Back up! Back up!" He waved his hand away, as if the motion would snap them out of their shock. They made the connection just before it was too late.

"Incoming!" Ironhide warned. The missile made contact with the truck, tearing through the trailer and its chassis effortlessly before it exploded.

The weapons master was thrown back with an "ouhh," while Bumblebee was flung against an an old mail truck, his legs torn clean from his body. Though Ironhide was hit with the brunt of the attack, he was built to handle such extremities and was left unaffected. Bumblebee, however, was a scout. Scouts didn't usually need the heavy armor that was preserved for warriors. He wasn't made to come out of a point-blank missile hit unscathed. He was lucky he was even alive.

There was a moment of silence as everyone processed what had happened. Some suffered concussions, others scratches from broken glass. Nothing they couldn't live through. There were no deaths yet.

Bumblebee shifted forward, his systems grating in protest. It didn't hurt so bad, as long as he ignored the pain. And there was that one key rule to follow. Keep moving. No matter what.

"Oh my _God_," Sam said in disbelief as Bumblebee crawled forward, leaving his lower limbs behind. "Bumblebee. Your legs, your _legs_. Here," he said, and then pressed his hand against Jazz's hood. "Back back back back back," the saboteur followed the panicked orders. "You're alright. Please get up. Bumblebee, get up! Ratchet!"

Bumblebee watched his charge as the painful revelation dawned on him. He had already suffered a major casualty and without being able to move he would be a huge yellow target just waiting to be hit.

The medic transformed, and picked his way over to the youngling. "There is nothing I can do right now," he said, essentially giving Bumblebee a death sentence. The only time Ratchet would be able to repair such serious damage is after their battle here.

Sam wouldn't have it. "You gotta get up," the boy said, as Bumblebee continued to crawl forward. "You're okay, you're okay." A whine escaped the scout, the exposed support struts scratching at the cement, irritating the wound. If he survived, Ratchet would give him hell for this.

And then a shitty day got even shittier.

A Decepticon, with a tank as his alternate, started firing on them. Jazz, Ironhide and Ratchet left to intervene, while the humans with formal military training went to assist them. Bumblebee, Sam and Mikaela were left alone, the latter sprinting away, forming an idea.  
>Bumblebee glanced at his charge and decided that it was Sam's responsibility to get the AllSpark to safety. He crawled forward to the human boy, who was staring at him in shock. It was too much to process, and Bumblebee considered that Sam might not be able to complete the task at hand. The scout dismissed the thought. He was on a mission, and now Sam was, too. And it <em>had <em>to be accomplished.

"I'm not gonna leave you," Sam said. Stupid as the declaration was, and as much as it meant certain death, Bumblebee admired the bravery behind it. However, the bravery should be used for something else today. He picked up the AllSpark, whirring more quietly this time, and making optic-contact with the boy. This was _everything_. Everything needed, every life that could be created, and what Cybertron needed to be saved. And everything fit right in his servo and was light enough for the human to carry on his own.

Looking into his guardian's optics, Sam suddenly realized what the past three days had meant.


	10. Bravery, In Other Words: Stupidity

Bravery, In Other Words: Stupidity

* * *

><p>A combined attack from Jazz, Ironhide, Ratchet and the humans had the Decepticon tank collapsing into a flaming pile of metal.<p>

Just in time for the three Autobots and the humans to be attacked by the Decepticon Lord.

"It's Megatron! Retreat!" Ratchet called. The humans were staring up at the new horror. "_Move,"_ he ordered more forcefully. "Fall back!"

As the humans retreated, Jazz took the brunt of the attack. A point-blank range cannon blast had his perfectly tuned systems dropping down to almost nonfunctional levels. He groaned from the pain, his alerts flashing red in front of his optics as if he didn't know that if he didn't get medical attention _now_, he would die.

And Ratchet was standing _so_ close. His life was literally twenty feet away from him, and he couldn't call out or force himself up. The saboteur became more frantic as the ground shook beneath him, the tremors growing stronger as the enemy came closer.

The fragger didn't have the mercy in him to shoot Jazz and just finish him off. Of course, since when had Megatron ever been _merciful_?

No, instead he plucked the moaning saboteur from the ground, digging his sharp, claw-like digits into Jazz's armor.

"Worthless," Megatron spat, inspecting the Autobot with narrowed optics.

Jazz's optics onlined again, and his processor cleared, now focusing on one thing and one thing only. Buying time. That's what saboteurs did. They bought time, and Jazz was doing just that. If he could stall Megatron, just for a couple more moments, Optimus would be in the vicinity. Then this world might have a chance.

How had Optimus so eloquently put it? 'A necessary sacrifice to bring piece to this planet.' Yes. That. It was exactly that.

Jazz wasn't stupid. He knew his time had come, and that death was waiting to wrap him in embracing arms. He just needed to ensure that his death meant something; then, and only then, would his life be complete. The assurance that this world, so unpredictable and beautiful and with so much potential, would live on... That would be enough for him.

But Megatron rusting away in the Pit would be a nice touch, too.

"_You're_ worthless, Megatron. Optimus had always been better than you," he snapped.

Megatron snarled and transformed into his Cybertronian jet mode, snapping the support struts to one of Jazz's wrists.

The small Autobot growled. That was_ it_. He was done with this. Surely joining the Well of All Sparks wouldn't be this painful. Was it really so much to ask to just _die_? Hadn't he already accepted his fate? It was supposed to be all sunshine and flowers and little smiley faces after that, right?

Apparently not.

The armor on his back dug into the sensitive wiring as he landed against the top of some monument, Megatron's entire weight soon adding to the pain.

"That all you got, Megatron?" The saboteur asked, knowing the answer. The Decepticon Lord had all the advantages he needed. Aside from formal training since he was a youngling, he had strength and size that even Optimus couldn't match.

The Prime was able to challenge his old friend by mentally outmatching the Decepticon Lord. Pure geniusness and sheer determination had saved Optimus a thousand times over. Unfortunately, neither of those two assets were at Jazz's disposal.

"Come here, cretin," the Decepticon ordered as Jazz managed to find his fighting spirit and scramble out from under the sharp peds.

"You wanna piece of me? You wanna piece?" He demanded, shooting at Megatron's knee as the Decepticon Lord swung him around.

"No. I want _two_!" Everything inside Jazz started popping and cracking and groaning in protest until it all snapped and he was torn in two.

The brave saboteur's Spark faded away as it merged with the Well of All Sparks. Among lost comrades and slain brethren, Jazz was finally safe.

* * *

><p>As incredibly, stupidly brave as they were, Bumblebee decided that humans were also remarkably resourceful. In fact, Mikaela's idea was probably saving his life.<p>

"What the hell? Mikaela, what are you _doing_?" Sam asked, not seeing the obvious genius as the girl backed the tow truck up until it was almost in contact with the scout.

"Sam, help me with this," Mikaela said, hopping out of the cab.  
>Bumblebee placed both servos on either side of the truck bed, lifting himself up and onto the vehicle. He whirred and gave a thumbs up to the girl, who smiled broadly. It seemed her caution around them was quickly fading away.<p>

"Oh," Sam said lamely in understanding.

"This might actually work," Bumblebee supplied, quoting a character from a movie.

Determination settled over the boy's features, and he hopped up onto the bed with his guardian.

"Okay," he grabbed at a chain. "Wrap this around his torso-"

He was cut off by Bumblebee snatching at the metal, and knotted himself to the truck, using a series of complex Cybertronian ties. Crippled as he may be, Bumblebee was still willing to show that the rest of his body was perfectly functional.

Unfazed, Sam continued his instructions. "Wrap this around his head," he said, handing off a hook to Mikaela.

"Sam!" Lennox called, sprinting towards them and providing a fine distraction.

"Yeah?" The younger human responded lazily, his sole focus on saving Bumblebee.

"Where's the Cube?"

"Right there," Sam said, pointing where he had placed the AllSpark, and switched his attention back to Mikaela and Bumblebee. "Wrap that around the base and around his neck."

The scout watched in curiosity as the human soldier walked up to his charge and shoved the AllSpark towards his chest. Ironhide and Ratchet approached the scene quietly.

He was distracted by the medic's quiet praise of the teenager's work, congratulating the sheer geniusness as the girl checked the tension of the cables. His gaze switched back to the soldier as he gently pushed Mikaela away from what was quickly becoming the central battle zone.

"You gotta get outta here-"

"No. I'm not leaving-" She protested, stepping away from Lennox.

"You have to leave-"

"I'm not leaving until I get Bumblebee outta here," there was finality in her words, and all that were within earshot knew that were would be no way to keep her from obtaining her goal. The girl had finally found her voice, and just when Bumblebee had needed it most.

Deep in his Spark, he knew there was nothing he could do that would compensate the risks that the young humans were taking; just for _him_. He appreciated it all the more, and vowed to be the constant and reliable source of reassurance humans so desperately needed without realizing it themselves.

"Sam, we will protect you," Ironhide rumbled solemnly, crouching lower and clenching his fists. This promise, though guaranteed by an un-killable warrior, still made the scout sit in a frantic state of worry, knowing that there was no other solution.

"Okay," Sam nodded his head slightly, and the weapons master was reminded of a bobble head. The boy moved forward, but the girl called him back.

Ironhide had to keep from giving a warning growl. There was no time for sentimental words to be exchanged. They were in a war zone; it wasn't some movie were the villain had incredibly horrible aim against the hero.

This was reality, and Megatron had impeccable aim.

"Sam!" Ironhide took the boy out of his little daydream. "Get to the building."

"Move!" Ratchet prodded, ironically more gruff than the weapons master.

Then, there was a roar that shook them to their very Sparks. "Decepticons, _attack_!"

* * *

><p>AN: So, here's the deal. Chapter 11 is written and ready... and if I get reviews, then maybe I might just post it instead of letting it sit there for another week...

*Hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge, elbow elbow*

It's in your hands! Just click that little review button below!


	11. The Track Star and the Hero

A/N: This chapter is really short because there's a part that I want to write with Optimus creepin' below the building while Megatron plays with Sam. That last sentence was _so_ innopropriate. But I'm going to keep it 'cause its a good explanation as any.

Thanks for the reviews, favorites and alerts. Love you guys and I really do appreciate it. Reviews especially make me all giddy and slightly more off-the-rocker than I already am.

But** I'm asking for your help** (yes, it's so important its in bold). There was one reviewer (you know who you are and you are awesome) who said that it was Ricky Ricardo instead of Riggi Ricono while in Bobby B's lot, which I appreciate because I am _horrible_ at deciphering what characters are saying. If any of you catch something else, shoot me a PM or review, whatever you feel like. A good place to start, if you're just a good person like that, is what Jazz says before Megsie calls him a cretin. I didn't even put it in because I couldn't figure it out for the life of me. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

* * *

><p>The Track Star and the Hero<p>

Sam shot by so quickly that Ironhide's optics had trouble tracking the human boy.

"Cover fire!" Ratchet called, shooting off rounds as he and the weapons master took the brunt of the Decepticon fire.

More graceful than the medic, Ironhide rolled and dodged oncoming blasts, while Ratchet grit his dentals and took it as it came. The black Autobot's continuous movement allowed him more vision on a broader spectrum, so it was he that sprint ahead of Sam to deal with yet another Decepticon threat.

"Watch out!" He said, picking up an empty vehicle and holding it in front of himself. It was like the boy saw one thing and one thing only; the white building with statues on top. Ironhide grudgingly admitted to himself that the human's capability to focus, when it mattered, was astounding. But credit was taken away. One cannot be so blinded by their goals that they do not see the hazards in front of them.

Without blinking, Sam continued to sprint forward, leaving Ironhide to pick himself up and chase after the fast little thing. In the back of his processor, he wondered if the boy could receive a scholarship for track.

That is, if he made it out alive.

"Keep moving Sam!" Ironhide encouraged, now being slowed by panicked civilians. Didn't they know when to run? "Don't stop!"

Somehow, Ironhide realized, the boy had managed to dodge Blackout's swiping blades, which shouldn't have happened because Sam was a human. And somehow, because apparently this was "Make Ironhide Open His Optics Day," Sam had been able to find cover during Starscream's sudden assault.

"Go!" He yelled, leaving the boy to his own devices as the boy ran towards the building. Starscream, though a coward, was still a formidable foe, and Ironhide would prefer to get rid of him now rather than shooting at the Air Commander as he ran to protect the kid.

* * *

><p>Optimus Prime crashed through the alleyway and onto the road, now within Megatron's sights and transformed.<p>

"_Megatron_," he growled, greeting his enemy while preparing a battle stance.

"Prime," the Decepticon Lord responded in kind, carelessly tossing two halves of a body from his perch on a monument. It sickened Optimus, seeing his old, trustworthy friend torn away from himself and undeniably _gone_.

Megatron lept off his viewpoint, transforming into jet-mode mid-air and shooting towards Optimus. The Prime shifted from ped to ped, readied himself and reached up, gripping either of Megatron's wings.

Mercilessly, the Decepticon flew through a building, impact of Cybertronian and human bodies killing the latter species. They shot out and rolled on the streets, crushing vehicles that had been abandoned. Grappling for the upper hand, they exchanged their usual battle banter.

"Humans don't deserve to live," Megatron said, immediately knowing what his brother was so stupidly protecting. A stupid, worthless Cybertronian protecting stupid, useless life. Upon reflection, the Decepticon realized that it was a nice match.

"They deserve to choose for themselves," Optimus said, shoving away Megatron's head.

"Then you will die with them!" He declared, shoving the Prime off of himself. He stood and prepared to kill the Prime. "Join them in extinction!"

Running forward, Optimus pulled the ion blaster off his back, shooting at the Decepticon Lord.

Megatron used the momentum that had caused him to go off-balance to his advantage. He turned, coming to a more stable position on his knee plates, took aim, and fired.

As always, Megatron's aim was impeccable.

The force of the blast push Optimus up into the air for a few stories, and he crashed against another building. The architecture in Mission City was not having a good day today.

Barely avoiding landing on any humans, his leg, that had somehow managed to penetrate into an office, slipped out and he landed against the pavement with a groan.

Deciding to let his enemy recover, so that the ensuing fight would be all the more entertaining, Megatron took to the sky, looking for the prey called 'Sam Witwicky.'

Somehow, finding the willpower within himself, Optimus Prime shifted so that he was in a crouch, and then he was standing up.

Humans were still running away in terror, the screams attacking his audio receptors without relent. His optics focused on the blue sky above and his faceplates hardened in determination.

Megatron would not destroy the alien beauty Earth possessed, nor would he murder billions of innocent beings. No. Not this planet. Not now. Not ever.

Today, Optimus Prime would do what he had never done before. He would stop Megatron, even if that meant the price of his own life.

* * *

><p>AN: Please creep on my profile page and answer the poll. I need to know how y'all percive the "You gave me no choice, brother," line that Optimus says.


	12. I've Been There Before

A/N: Okay. So the poll is kind of awkward because, well, there's a tie between 1st and 2nd. Eight of you have voted so I would appreciate that others would kindly contribute your opinion.

Anyway, onto Optimus getting the slag beat outta him!

****Update**: There is now a three-way tie for first. I'm glad to see you all evenly disagree with each other.

* * *

><p>I've Been There Before<p>

Bumblebee knew exactly what this was. He had experienced it for himself, and seen it happen thousands of times. It was when the newcomers broke down. No training in the world could prepare anyone for the heat of battle, and Mikaela hadn't even had _that_ luxury.

He listened as the girl hit the dashboard, resting her head against the steering wheel as she let out a pitiful sound.

He knew what she was feeling at this very instance, as shots rang out across the city, orders mixing with screams as they echoed through their minds and the overwhelming _helplessness_.

With shaky breath, she turned back to Bumblebee. An understanding passed between them, and he gave a short, curt nod. They were going to make it out of this.

With that silent promise, she turned back to the steering wheel, and they were in the crossfires again. He tried to help with direction, by dragging either of his half-legs on the cement, but whirred at the girl in frustration, essentially saying "This isn't going to work."

"I'll drive, you shoot!" Mikaela said, effectively delegating tasks between them. She managed to go in reverse so that it was more of a help than a hindrance, and Bumblebee was more comfortable in this arrangement anyway. At least he would be between the line of fire and the human. He kicked abandoned vehicles out of the way clearing a path as civilians fled from the opposite direction. Honestly. Why didn't they just _go away_?

It was only seconds before they were in the sights of the Decepticon tank. He was injured by the other humans' sabot rounds, but they needed help from some Cybertronian weaponry.

"Shoot, shoot!" Mikaela urged. Each blast Bumblebee shot off hit their target over the Decepticon's Spark, tearing through the casing as each round burrowed through as he stumbled back. Bumblebee's missiles, combined with the humans' barrage gave another fatality to the enemy side.

Mikaela drove up to where the soldiers were, and hopped out, somewhat hoping to recieve orders and help kick ass again.

She walked up to Bumblebee, who's plasma cannon transformed back into his servo.

"Nice shot," she said with a large grin. He whirred something that sounded oddly like "Thank you."

"That tank thing is definitely dead now," one soldier said, and Bumblebee nodded in agreement. The Decepticon's Spark was gone.

"All right!" Lennox called. "Let's go! We got business!"

* * *

><p>"I'm never giving you this AllSpark!" Optimus' Spark tightened with fear but swelled with pride as Sam made a promise that would ensure his death. The boy was on the edge of the building and clinging for dear life, all while defying the Decepticon Lord.<p>

Megatron was a strategic genius. He was powerful. Manipulative. Strong. Merciless. But the Decepticon Lord was so incredibly predictable that Optimus wondered if he had another plan in the works or if he was simply blinded by his cruelty.

Optimus wasn't one to risk another's life, but there were certain times when doing so was not only necessary, but it provided an advantage. That was why he was waiting below the rendezvous point, waiting for Megatron's thirst for torture to overpower him. It wouldn't do to merely aim, fire, and kill the boy. The Decepticon Lord needed to hear Sam scream as he plummeted to his death.

Just as predicted, the ledge beneath the human crumbled.

Sam's yells were quickly cut off as Optimus caught him in his servo, placing the human securely on his chest plates.

"I got you, boy," Optimus said, the human meeting him with a dumbstruck gaze. After all, he should have been dead. "Hold onto the Cube!" With that, Optimus twisted so that he was vertical to the ground, and crashed between two buildings that he had previously supported himself against. The human was clutched safely between Optimus' chest and his servo as he prolonged his fall to the ground.

As Megatron descended upon them.

With a groan, Optimus fell out of his carefully calculated fall the cement below rushing up to greet him as he scrambled to not accidentally crush Sam.

The pavement beneath Optimus cracked, and he found himself in a small crater. He lifted his servo away from the boy. "Sam. You risked your life to protect the Cube." It was a statement that Optimus didn't quite believe himself.

"No sacrifice, no victory," the humans supplied, a wild look in his eyes. It was a hunger that the Prime recognized as his own.

"If I cannot defeat Megatron, you must push the Cube into my chest. I will sacrifice myself to destroy it. Get behind me."

Somewhere in his mini-monologue, he and the human made a connection that was infinitely strong and unbreakable.

"Its just you and me, Megatron," he said, settling into a defensive position.

"No. Its just me, Prime," the Decepticon Lord gloated. Both mechs knew that physically, Megatron outmatched Optimus. He had far more experience and he wasn't hindered by caring for the lifeforms that surrounded them.

"At the end of this day, one shall stand, one shall fall," the Prime promised solemnly. Even if it was Optimus, then at least Megatron's plans would be destroyed and his power decimated.

They grappled for a moment until the Decepticon Lord found the upper hand, throwing his opponent away.

"You still fight for the weak! That is why you lose!" And with that, Megatron threw Optimus Prime against the corner of a building as if he was no more than a rag doll.

* * *

><p>AN: As always, the insistance for reviews. And answer the poll... if people don't answer then I'll have to postpone the next chapter...

No, that isn't a threat. Just the truth.

Anyway, since I want to share my pointless observations with you, has anyone else noticed that in the first movie, Megatron was this big badass that was scary, and by the third movie he just became kind of pitiful?

It's like he and Optimus did a total one-eighty. In the first movie, Optimus was literally getting thrown around like a rag doll, hence the last sentence of this chapter. But by the third, he was a big badass that is kind of scary if you piss him off.

Hmm.

And Sentinel is just a douchebag. A really random thought, but it's true.

Damn, I hate that character. Can you tell? But he's in my top ten favorites because I love to hate him.


	13. We Are Here, We Are Waiting

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

A/N: So, at least I know you guys can agree to disagree. There was never a clear winner in the poll, so I just did some research, but it didn't matter that much anyway as I didn't go into depth because "brother" was such a loose term in the first place.

This is the last chapter. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>We Are Here, We Are Waiting<p>

Optimus Prime struggled to stand. His efforts didn't really matter as Megatron strode up to him, his ped making contact with Optimus' faceplates. The Prime groaned as he flew through the air for a short second, the Decepticon Lord sauntering to where he had landed.

But fighting for the weak had worked in Optimus' favor, as Megatron so shockingly learned while being attacked by the human air-strike.

Optimus felt overwhelming, powerful relief as his former comrade was torn apart by human weaponry. However, it quickly morphed into panic as Megatron descended upon the boy, growling and snarling and snapping. In a last-ditch effort, Optimus flung his arm out, tripping the Decepticon Lord. This did little to deter Megatron, who was clawing forward to a desperate, terrified Sam.

"I'll kill you!" He promised, his red optics glowing in dark fury. "Mine! All Spark!"

"Sam! Put the Cube in my chest! Now!" Optimus ordered, crawling towards the human. They could not allow the AllSpark to fall into Megatron's servos. As damaged as he was, he could still get away. And that was all the Decepticon Lord needed.

But the boy had other ideas, stepping forward to confront Megatron. Optimus watched in horror as he realized what exactly he intended to do. "Sam! No, Sam!"

It was too late. In pieces, the AllSpark was already falling upwards, into Megatron's Spark. Gasps of pain and shock tortured Optimus' audio receptors as the Decepticon Lord clutched at his melting chest, before finally falling to the ground, embraced and protected by death.

Slowly, Optimus stood. "You left me no choice, brother," he declared sadly, pain lacing through his Spark, making it throb in pathetic little protests that Optimus should have enjoyed rather than regretted.

But the Prime was much too gentle and caring to thrive from the scene of death, especially when that scene of death was of Megatron. Jazz was a friend, but the pain of losing him was nothing compared to the roaring agony that the death of his brother had caused.

Though the bonds of their brotherhood were deep, he could still not bring himself to forgive his brother for what he had done. In the end, Megatron had gotten just what he deserved. Being killed off by a pathetic fleshling that wasn't as pathetic as he had originally assumed.

Finding himself again, and ignoring the sorrow, Optimus crouched down to Sam, who still looked incredibly perplexed, as if he wasn't sure about what had just happened.

Optimus wasn't sure he knew exactly what had happened, either.

"Sam, I owe you my life," he said, not forgetting that the boy could have very easily approached him instead of Megatron. "We are in your debt."

"Prime, we couldn't save him," Ironhide said, hold the remains of Jazz up to Optimus, who took the two halves gently.

"Ah, Jazz," he said, looking at the body, and then the small audience of soldiers and civilians-turned-heroes. "We lost a great comrade, but gained new ones. Thank you. All of you. You honor us with your bravery."

Bumblebee thought for a moment, and then decided to risk it. "Permission to speak, sir?" It felt so entirely good to be able to use his vocal processors again.

"Permission granted, old friend," Optimus said, and Bumblebee winced slightly at the informal title, still uncomfortable with such things.

"You speak now?" Sam asked in amazement, and was promptly ignored.

"I wish to stay with the boy, sir," The scout explained, all the while teaching the Prime exactly how certain 'bots of certain stature should be addressed as.

"If that is his choice," Optimus allowed, and all eyes fell on Sam.

"Yes," the boy breathed.

Optimus Prime knelt down to Megatron's body, plucking a shard of the AllSpark from his chest. He examined the tiny piece that meant nothing without its whole, and folded his servo over it.

The search for the All Spark had come to an end.

* * *

><p>"There it is," Lennox said, nearly pressing his face against the window of the passenger side door.<p>

"Just because you're excited to see your youngling does not give you the right to fog up the glass," Ironhide warned from the stereo system.

"'Hide, I may be a human, but I know your big ass isn't made out of something as delicate as glass," he countered, turning back to face forward in the seat as they approached the Lennox residence, and Lennox stared at his wife and little girl. "Aren't they beautiful?"

Ironhide rolled to a stop, and Lennox practically jumped out of the cab, dragging his neatly packed duffel bag along with him as he went to embrace his family.

The weapons specialist waited in his alternate form, until the Captain was able to somewhat prepare his wife.

"Ironhide!" Lennox called, and he engaged his transformation cycle, and settled into a crouch as the blonde woman stared at him. And stared at him. And stared at him. Until her unrelenting gaze made the weapons specialist shift in discomfort.

"Well," she said, pursing her lips. "I prepared a guest room for no reason. Sweetheart, will you be okay in the garage?"

Both soldiers recoiled at the term "sweetheart," but Sarah was still waiting for an answer.

"It should be fine," Ironhide allowed cautiously, slightly afraid that she may bite his head off with one wrong move.

Lennox's eye twitched. "You called him sweetheart."

* * *

><p>"With the All Spark gone, we cannot return life to our planet." Optimus Prime let the hopelessness drift across the universe as he sent out the transmission. They had the right to know.<p>

"And fate has yielded it's reward. A new planet to call home. We live among its people now, hiding in plain sight but watching over them in secret, waiting, protecting. I have witnessed their capacity for courage, and though we are worlds apart, like us, there is more to them than meets the eye. I am Optimus Prime, and I send this message to any surviving Autobots taking refuge among the stars. We are here, we are waiting."

Optimus Prime let the hope drift across the universe as his transmission ended.

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for all the support in this fic, I don't think I could have gotten through it without the encouragement from you guys. Keep a look out for the ROTF version of this, if any of you guys have title ideas, go ahead and shoot 'em at me.

-Neutral Fan


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